


Yours, Professionally

by Insomniosa



Series: Instagram Emblem [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Instagram, Office, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomniosa/pseuds/Insomniosa
Summary: Landing a job at a marine business empire headquarter, Vanessa vows to give her best and mirrors her older sister's model-employee's qualities. Thrown in the den of lions surrounded by wealthy people, Vanessa soon learns that yes, there is indeed a dragon in the tower, and no, despite his keenness apparently he does not drink human blood... or so she hopes.





	Yours, Professionally

**Author's Note:**

> \- I model Innes' voice after his voice actor Xander Mobus in Fire Emblem Heroes. 
> 
> \- The industry the Frelias is involved in is based on Frelia's typology profile, including how the game hinted how sea trade prospers in Innes' paired ending with L'Arachel. Hints of Innes being versatile in maritime / littoral warfare are interpreted from snippets of the game, like how he keeps Frelia's border intact losing only the Stone or the Fort Rigwald chapter where it is said that "against all odds" Innes and his troops meet and hold the advancing Grado army at the waters.
> 
> \- 'Emblem City' is the diverse realm where Instagram Emblem stories take place. Modeled after, I don't know, probably New York or California for the diversity and metropolis / wealthy people area with typical middle-class housing complexes. I'm not from the US, so my imagination is largely based on how American popular culture is presented on my TV through American movies and TV shows.
> 
> \- French is not my first nor second language but I hope the featured French lines are acceptable enough. Of course, corrections are most welcome.
> 
> \- I used Valni Tower since it houses Frelia's sacred stone, has multiple floors (lol) and where all kinds of work are performed instead of something like 'Frelia Tower' for the Frelias' business empire HQ. Also to invoke the "oooh spooky~ nuance.
> 
> \- I used Caellach as your generic annoying office bully inspired by his ambitious pursuit of ~glory~ based on what he said to Joshua, and how he treated Ismaire. Also with him getting rid of Aias whom he sees as an obstacle to the glory he seeks for, which mirrors my Caellach in the story (I thought of putting this beforehand just in case). 
> 
> \- Selena being a scientist who deals with disaster is inspired from her being a Gradoan, and Grado's typology profile in general. ... Also because she is a charismatic lady with a really high position in the army.
> 
> \- Lastly... I'm not sure about fashion -nervous laughter- but I tried matching Innes' color scheme with the original design.

Vanessa Rider hopped off her train.

Her watch said it was exactly eight in the morning, and she rushed through, her dark brown low-heeled Mary Janes clicked on the stony pavement she raced on. Her long hair, worn in a pigtail, swayed back and forth as she pushed her legs to keep moving, nimbly sidetracking people every now and then. She held a thick folder against her chest while her bag was slung over her shoulders.

The metropolis district was nothing but busy at such hour, and Vanessa by now had grown to enjoy her surroundings. From people who got on and off the train like her, drivers who gave a middle finger at each other because if not for the traffic, their attempt to race others, and jam-packed hole-in-wall restaurants  which started taking breakfast-eaters. Emblem City was lively most of the time, and even during night time people would still be roaming around for entertainment and snacks.

Vanessa made her way to a nearby patisserie, which barely flipped its sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, “but are you open?”

“Yes, although barely. If you’d like to order, you may need to wait a little bit more since some are still in the oven,” a blue-haired man replied. He had seen this scene perhaps more often than what he could remember. The advantage of having a strategically-located shop was that business was busy during most of the day, but at the same time it also meant anxious desk job workers would never be too early to queue for their pastries and breads. “Alva, I need to leave. I can trust you with this one, right?”

The blue-haired man nodded at a younger man who worked behind the counter, and was now loading a batch of freshly-baked buns. “Certainly, Sir. Have a great morning,” the younger man replied in a cheerful tone before turning at Vanessa. “Hello, how can I help you?”

“Ah? Oh, yes, sorry,” Vanessa’s serious expression softened as she returned the phone she was holding into the pocket of her blazer. Before long she had selected some buns including a box of cinnamon roll. More and more colorful pastries were coming to the counter, and she did not miss a chance to do a quick snap to capture the scenery.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Good morning! Fresh stop to charge some batteries before working hard [at Master Cakes]._

Her phone vibrated just right when Alva—or so she heard, as the counter man was addressed before—started packing all her orders. Vanessa slid, unlocking the screen. Small smile emerged when she saw some likes and comments, and she quickly typed her replies.

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Damn those look so tasty. Send me some, pretty please? **@dutifulrider** I’m sick of eating Kyle’s instant noodles lolz **@greenergrass**_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _I’m a mindful roommate who let your bespoke leather pants alive **@artsywarrior**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Go back to sleep Forde **@artsywarrior** hi Kyle **@greenergrass**_

“Here you go. Bon appetite,” Alva handed the box, and Vanessa nearly spilled everything in her bag while fishing out for her card.

“Thank you. You too as well…” she muttered, receiving the card back when Alva was done with the payment. She made a soft gasp, too embarrassed to look at the cake shop worker’s eyes because of what she reflexively replied to him. “Um I… gotta go.”

Vanessa nearly stormed outside as her heels almost caught in a manhole. “Dammit,” she muttered softly, jaywalking before navigating her way a little bit more until she got to the tower she was working at. Her phone vibrated again, and she saw a new Like on the pastry post.

 **_gracefulwing_ ** _liked this._

Vanessa bit her lips. It was her older sister Syrene, pretty much a person with all the qualities she dreamed to have. A secretary to their company’s CEO, the woman was resourceful and ever esteemed, truly befitting the username she went by on Instagram. Vanessa pictured her sister already upstairs, ready with her tailored suit and perfect make-up as she conducted all the necessary tasks in that early morning. Probably ushering their new interns to have breakfast too chiding showing up half-dead was a great reason to feel like shit throughout the day. Vanessa mused to herself—there she was, feeling so awkward after one awkward greeting and trying to race the devil to make it to her job before her boss came. The problem was, her boss valued discipline as if it was an extended limb.

Valni Tower stood majestically facing the direction of morning breeze, as if philosophically telling the world that it was ever-steeled to meet its challenge face-to-face, against all odds, and how it would not falter even if the wind blew its way, while being ready to welcome opportunities at the same time. The Tower is the business headquarter owned by the Frelias, a family of socialites whose patriarch and heir worked marine business including wholesale. They owned many important assets and treasures in the area, perhaps rivaled only by Rausten Enterprise.

Or so what Syrene first told her. Vanessa considered herself lucky because the Tower was opening a chance for an internship when she was close to graduating university. Tasked helping Syrene and her piling paperwork, apparently her collectedness and composure charmed the CEO—Hayden Frelia, a man in his fifties with silvery green hair and sagely appearance—that he sent her with nothing but a praised work ethic upon her departure. The kind-hearted boss asked about her graduation, and in a rather fatherly manner, asked if she already got an offer somewhere else because he wanted to try her as an assistant to his son—the second most-important person in the business, Innes.

“Nobody lasted long with him,” the CEO spoke, a bit embarrassed. “My son is a… perfectionist man. Over-achiever perhaps a wise way to put it, and he did not like the people I assigned for him so far,” he continued, facing Vanessa in the grand office room he occupied for himself. “It’s a zero-sum game so far. Either they could not stand him, or he kicked them out. Sadly, usually he is right. But even more so, it is hard to find a person who would not break under the pressure of his… how do I put this, Miss Rider, rigorous workload and rhythm. I need to save that boy from himself,” Hayden chuckled.

Vanessa heard that often during interviews. Rigorous, discipline—basically the words that would weed out potential job-seekers before they even decided to apply. But Vanessa was a business major, and she had seen Syrene hopping from one place to another. With her own university workload and taking care of their parents, Vanessa had a faith in herself that she could manage whatever rigorous the CEO had meant. So she simply nodded and profusely thanked Hayden for the offer, noticing that Valni Tower was one of the few of lesser and lesser places which offered _paid_ internships. They even had a nice pantry where employees could unwind and have coffee, so when her graduation was final, she did not think twice to return, much to the joy of her ecstatic mother. Even her close friends Forde and Lute loaded into the train with her so they could have a little celebration after Vanessa shopped for blazers and blouses. Vanessa’s first impression was that the Frelias demanded more of their employees, but at the same time they were willing to compensate for what they asked for.

The first time she was introduced to Innes, the usher and her found him at his desk with two phones pressed into each of his ears. “Sell that,” she heard him speaking, putting one cordless phone back to where it was before attending to his own cell phone. “No bombs to be used in the ocean, are we clear? … No. That is not our way. Nice to shortly get to know you.”

“Good morning, Mr. Frelia,” she gulped. He did have a commanding atmosphere about him, something she expected from an heir to business empire—let alone a determined perfectionist one that was. But what she did not expect was that it would be so strong like this, and how he formidably ended a potential partnership just with a short phone call and a strong cause.

“You are…” Innes looked puzzled, but he motioned them to wait because the phone rang again. “Cargo ship with half of the price? Check the routes that ship has been on so far. Why yes, I suspect it is a refurbished one instead of a newly-built ship. Hello? … Ah, check the anchor then. Tell me if the chain is corroded—quickest way I can think of right now. Look into its fuel consumption. Yes, field test. Graph it for me. Fax is fine, email is fine. I’m flexible. Get someone else to see if the broker and the company encountered financial problems in the past two years. Find out if it already took its maiden voyage too.”

Vanessa stared at him. Awe was too simple to capture what she just felt upon seeing him working—she was starstruck by his professionalism. _This man truly knows what he is doing,_ Vanessa thought again, catching a glimpse of two books about marine conservation on his already crowded desk. That very moment, she decided the younger Frelia earned her first respect as a potential boss. Most rich people she knew would rather sit and let people fill in for them, not doing the hardwork by themselves. But Innes Frelia seemed to always want to get actively involved, and traced expertise foreign to him.

“New assistant,” Innes glanced at his computer. “Very well, I’ll give it another try if my father vetted you. You have three months of trial phase, Ma’am. Thank you, I’ll let you know what I do later.”

 _That’s it?_ Vanessa gaped. But she was ushered out of his room, and before getting out she could hear him asking for calculations and _how_ they were made. Seriously?

Eating lunch with other interns gave her a rundown of his quick background—a holder of master’s degree from a prestigious Ivy League university, they said—which she would have guessed easily at that point. She and Syrene also went to great schools, but he was rich while their family did everything they could to keep the girls at school. And barely a month as a freshman, Vanessa got a taste of experience regarding what it was like to be a young man, rich, and sent to prestigious schools for family prestige: frat boy assholes. _Now_ that would be something she prayed her new boss was not. She braced herself for gigantic workpile, but dealing with a manchild was never on the list.

So she kept her ears open as they filled her with more and more details, especially senior permanent employees who had overlording tendencies towards fresh meat like her. “He was a marine engineering major, business minor,” one of the senior coworkers told her as if entertaining a child. “Then he went to get a master’s in international business. Apparently his concentration with the engineering path was marine structures. Worked for the Navy as shipyard project engineer as well, which sent him abroad.”

“Sounds like an over-achiever,” Vanessa bit her sandwich, “if not adeptly smart.”

“Oh he is. Guess who got recommended to The Society of Naval Architects and Marine Engineers two years ago. You’ll taste that first-hand,” the senior coworkers sneered. “I don’t envy your job, honestly. The position? Murder-worthy. But if you are going to work with that _dragon,_ I’m happy where I am.”

So much ominous warning, she thought again, quietly finishing her lunch with orange juice she got from the coffee shop near to Master Cakes. Yet the image of Innes Frelia firmly stood against bombing the ocean was stronger than the image of his they seemed wanting her to subscribe to. “With these records piling under his name, I thought he was… young?”

The coworker laughed as if she just humored him with the most ridiculous joke he ever heard, and Vanessa hated it. “Barely in the mid-twenties. Money is sure handsome.”

“Is a Vanessa Rider here?” a face peeked into the room. “Mr. Frelia wants you upstairs.”

“The younger or the older?” the older coworker grinned.

“The older.”

“You are safe by now,” the coworker grinned again, this time at Vanessa. “Ciao, girl. Stay alive.”

Vanessa shrugged before bolting out. She wanted her first days to be perfect, and more importantly, she wanted both Frelias to see how professional and reliable she was. That she was not there just because she was a substitute for her sister. That she was there because she belonged, because they desired her contribution for the company, not a college girl a clement rich man took a pity of.

“Innes created these lodging and transport summarizations,” the older Frelia greeted her when she was back to her desk. “Please proofread them like an editor does a script. Compile this into one singular document which I hope will be ready for me to review by four.”

“Yes, Sir.” Vanessa smiled. And she thought Hayden muttered a relieved _God be with ye, my child_ before huffing to retreat back to Innes’ office room, perhaps discussing things mentioned in those papers. She started reading them the moment the older Frelia turned his back to leave her, and through the papers she did have her first glimpse of the kind of person Innes was.

The language used for the papers was dry—something she expected from engineers or those who tasted the field, because apparently they all had this knack of being deeply thorough yet assuming people already knew what they meant, so either they did not bother to elaborate more or got entangled into verbal salad of technical terms. Innes’ notes, despite the richness of the covered area, were concise and to the point, with some handwritten additions here and there. _Neat handwriting,_ she smiled again. _Cursive? What a classical person._ Then the stories about Innes started revisiting her head, and her cynical self thought perhaps it was just because Innes was impatient enough that even his writing had to be conducted in haste.

Vanessa held her breath when she saw his little calculation on the paper. It was out of her area, whatever it was. There was only a note of _loading_ _confirmed; even_ after the little algebraic note over there, and she wondered what to do with those. Sure, she could try using equation options to have it run on a Microsoft Word. But…

Vanessa braced herself, knocking on the sturdy wooden door Innes holed himself in.

“Yes?”

Rather coarse, baritone-deep voice welcomed her from the inside. Innes had passively spoken to her that day, but with him making his voice louder to be heard outside, it was akin to her first time to actually hear him speaking.

“Mr. Frelia—the younger,” she added because Hayden was still there. “There is something I’d like to ask.”

“Yes?”

That voice died down, so Vanessa braved herself and brought the paper closer.

“No,” Innes shook his head. “Do not stand. Take a seat.”

She wanted to ask _where?_ Since Hayden occupied a chair before his desk, but unexpected to her, the younger Frelia stood up, gesturing her to take _his seat_ with his eyes as he _stood._

 _The dragon is not so evil,_ Vanessa noted in silence, feeling rather awkward because she occupied his chair, facing Hayden with his son standing beside her. “Your calculation. Is this necessary?”

“… Did you just truly ask me that?”

 _But the dragon is still a dragon._ “I’m sorry, Sir, but—this is outside of my area of expertise,” Vanessa started slowly. “I mean, I can try running this for you, but I cannot check since it is out of my background. To be honest, I don’t… really understand what you meant by even loading here. It’s not that I doubt you or want to treat this like a homework I need to correct, but I was wondering if you could explain more since I would have to elaborate this on the report for others… to see.”

“So how are you not wanting to check it, yet demanding me to be clear so you can render it?”

“I’m to assist you,” Vanessa responded gingerly, yet firm at the same time. “So I will have to help you to convey what you meant to tell the intended people, to make sure that your minds are in-line and they do not misunderstand you. I believe we are on the same page about that, Sir.”

Hayden paused, meticulously studying their interaction as much as he assessed Innes’ reaction. Meanwhile, Vanessa stopped, eagerly waiting for Innes to call her dumb, perhaps, like those frat boys did non-STEM majors whenever they could. The older Frelia concealed the glint in his eyes when his son’s body language changed—relaxed, as if the forceful perfectionist just blurted an “Oh.”

But Innes was still Innes, and he would not just yield so easily. “I _need_ that calculation to shut up some persistent idiots from overloading their ships and underpaying their crews,” he stated sternly. “… But I suppose… yes, you are right. Your background?”

 _He said I was right,_ Vanessa noted in silence. “Business and accounting, Sir.”

“Did you take advanced calculus or something similar throughout your courses?”

“AP math in high school and some more math later.”

“Alright, we can try,” Innes grabbed a piece of paper from his desk. “I inspected the ships which carried our products abroad. I found one needing repair, but of course some people would rather keep their money even though unsuspecting crews could literally drown to death as they did. Since they just won’t listen to me when I asked them to stop the old machine from sailing, I propose maintenance and reducing the cargo it is supposed to carry, drawing comparison from the ship’s tonnage and possible fuel capacity so that we can evade fuel hazard. Since it is potentially dangerous, I rather have them hiring more trained seamen and professional controller or on-deck engineers. And, you know, raise the insurance for the crews since this is going to be a risky trip considering they just cannot concede. Managing a risk including postponing a transaction saves you better than having to unpack a disaster, but sadly the angry men league only appreciates data and scientific approaches when another forceful man shoves it down their throat. … Not that they care unless the data favors them, anyway, so here I am, taking that role.”

“I think you are doing a noble cause, Sir.”

Hayden cocked an eyebrow.

Innes stopped, glancing at her a bit before proceeding. “No. It’s just called being rational but apparently the bar is that low these days.” Vanessa smiled, making her boss look perplexed for some seconds. “… I will reiterate the theory, and break the formula down for you. And then you give me input on how to wisely put it on paper. Something people without the needed background can read.”

“Alright.”

“You seem excited.”

“I… d-do I?” Vanessa retreated, embarrassed. She was excited for their brainstorming session, and genuinely thought it was rather unlikely for a key person in a business empire to come down his throne and patiently shared a knowledge lore with other people.

“Do you like mathematics, perhaps?” Hayden asked, chuckling a bit. “I appreciate you for checking for dents and flaws in the company, Innes, but firstly you should stop scaring people.”

Vanessa smiled again. “Sadly no, Sir.”

“Sadly?” Innes' eyes twinkled a bit. “I take it as _actually_ like it then.”

Fifteen minutes after, Vanessa proposed to him to sum up what she understood from his explanation on paper, and Innes was to judge whether it was acceptable or not, whether she got what he taught her right. The younger Frelia seemed to like the idea, so Vanessa rushed to her desk, and snapped a photo of the damn formula to send to her best friend via Instagram’s direct message.

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Hey L, got a moment? Can you English this for us dummies? I tried but I want it to be perfect._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _… V, what happened? Are you tortured? Kidnapped? Isn’t this structural mechanics?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
You know, you are a researcher so like. Language these numbers for me, Lute. And yes._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _Of course I can try. I’ll type it quick so your kidnapper releases you._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
It’s just my new boss wanting to be precise._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _And who is this? Algebra money-god?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Nooo. I told you I’m starting my three-month trial at Valni Tower._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _Frelia._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Uh, yes?_

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _THE Frelia._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
No, his son. THE Frelia-Frelia is Syrene’s boss._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _So Innes Frelia has a calculus kink?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Are you saving me or not, my knight in goggles?_

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _Done. I expect A STORY. And a fine wine btw._

 **_XXXprodigyXXX  
_ ** _Hey he better pays you well. Even I don’t have time for algebra kink._

Innes liked her summary.

… Or so she thought, because he nodded. “Yes, we will use this. Thank you.”

“I had to ask a friend, Sir,” Vanessa sheepishly confessed.

And Innes turned at her with godspeed-like movement. “I do not appreciate my notes being shared.”

“I…”

“… Yet I understand it was actually wise of you to utilize your resource considering I haven’t… been so clear,” he withdrew. “I will be more considerate in the future just as I hope you will of me. Name?”

“I beg your pardon?” Vanessa nearly jumped.

“Your name,” Innes muttered again, softer this time as if it was almost apologetic.

“O-oh. It’s Vanessa Rider, Sir. I’m new and still on a three-month trial as you said...”

“Rider. Thank you again.”

Not only did she notice how the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smile, but also the way he respectfully addressed her. Syrene once complained how men hardly respected women enough—to which she mostly agreed, but Syrene said work-style disrespect was subtle that you barely caught it until you could get a good moment of contemplation to sit back and revisited what just happened. According to Syrene, male coworkers had this tendency of overlording their female counterparts. From condescending gestures as if any female person who came into the room they happened to be in was a cleaning lady or a servant whose primary job was making drinks and keeping them entertained. Then came the talking-down explanation which the female coworker did not even ask. “Or…” Syrene paused to catch her breath, and Vanessa found herself holding her breath as well, preparing for the worst.

“They have this tendency to go first-name or nickname basis with a female coworker,” Syrene, the graceful Syrene, nearly spat when she said that. “I am the CEO’s secretary! I may be a secretary, but I am not there to mop the floor or serving tea. If anything _they_ should know that practically, I’m in higher, more untouchable position since I managed many things they weren’t even allowed to touch. And _never_ give in to that, Vanessa,” she ferociously told her younger sister. “Know your worth. If you don’t, others hardly give a damn. If you don’t like first-timers calling your first name, make it known to them. Do not respond to any Vanessa until they learn to call your name as how you would like it to be. You would not believe what these people did to our analyst who happened to be from a foreign country.”

So Vanessa carved the advice to heart. After all, it came from her idol, the older sister she aspired to be. The older sister who understood the world more than she did, considering Syrene braved it before her. And Vanessa already felt intrigued when Syrene said Hayden Frelia never called her anything far from Miss Rider. The CEO did ask if it would be okay to go first-name basis with her when Vanessa began interning, just to avoid confusion. Now that she was assigned to Innes, they practically bumped into each other nearly as often as Innes got to meet his father at work.

Vanessa appreciated Innes for doing that, but she sensed there was a distance between them exactly because of that. She wondered if she should warm up to Innes—considering she was new and all that, but it took only a short time to learn that Innes was a private person when it concerned the matter of his personal preferences, and naïve as she was, other, senior coworkers already filled her head with tales of horror regarding the Frelian heir.

That day, Hayden Frelia subtly told her he was satisfied by her performance with Innes.

Meanwhile the current Vanessa, who just raced the devil on foot after getting off the train, nearly tumbled when she griped the front door of the tower. A familiar face was already there, sitting outside with a cup of coffee and a piece of bread in his hand. He quickly caught her shoulders. “Careful there, V.”

“Thanks, Gilliam,” Vanessa simply nodded at the head security, a man in his mid-thirties with a perfect built you could dream of from a professional guard. An army veteran, Gilliam had a quick sense and reliable demeanor despite being a no-talker. “Is the boss up?”

“Yours, or Syrene’s?” Gilliam finished his coffee and threw the cup into the bin.

“Mine, of course,” Vanessa’s lips pursed tightly again. “I think Mr. Frelia Senior has not arrived yet if you are still here. Usually you will be upstairs.”

“True,” Gilliam agreed. In a sympathetic tone, he then continued, “the younger Frelia is never late and usually the first to come unless a meteor wrecks his car.”

Another vibration from the phone so Vanessa ignored Gilliam a little bit to check her phone. Fetching it out, she almost let out a squeal upon seeing what was new.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _liked this._

Her pastry photo. Innes just liked it. _Her boss_ liked her pastry photo.

“I… think he wants to know that _he knows_ I’ve arrived,” Vanessa chuckled nervously.

“Really?” Gilliam muttered. “Usually, if the young boss wants something to be known, it would be—yes?” it was his turn to answer the phone. “Yes. Understood, Sir. Alright.”

“That was Innes,” Vanessa shot straight.

“… Short, frank, and direct,” Gilliam simply nodded. “Well, duty calls, V,” he steered his heels inside. “Are you coming or not? I’ll hold the elevator for you.”

“Certainly, sure!” Vanessa rushed inside, her shoes made messy noises as she began to move.

_Innes liked the photo. Innes knew I am here. Innes only called Gilliam to frankly request the head security to come upstairs. Yet he did not tell me to come quickly?_

“How cheeky… or… tactically merciless?”  Vanessa pondered again, following Gilliam’s long steps.

_Innes liked the photo._

Vanessa nearly tumbled on her own shoes.

* * *

 

Vanessa had been Innes’ assistant for one year and a half by now. But there were plenty of adapting moments she needed to quickly catch up to his work rhythm to reach what she managed to contain for a year… and by that she meant rigorous as Hayden first warned her. Innes Frelia was astute and yes, perfectionist—to put it mildly, with a tongue that could slice through a diamond. He barely wasted any time for chit-chats, gathering the needed people for briefing and brainstorming and spared no time in making them know what needed to be improved. Despite his brashness, he was actually careful and planning, and Vanessa could not help but comparing him to a strategist if Hayden were to be a general of an army. And that tongue sure was a keen debater in battle of wits MMA.

What she did not expect was that his choice of weapon would be Instagram.

Sometimes she forgot they even followed each other. She did first, thinking it was just a professional gesture to get in-touch with her colleagues. After all, it was the Frelian heir who first suggested his core team to follow him because he liked posting an outline there. And it was true. He had encouraged them to not feel reluctant to check on his Instagram every now and then because sometimes some program, rundown, and even invitations would be posted there. Hayden liked orthodox methods, but Innes was a reformist when it came to the job. So during her first months being there, Vanessa caught up to him.

While others mostly begrudged Innes for being the textbook merciless intense boss, Vanessa remembered some different things. Like how the young corporate heir would spare time to inspect field workers himself, glaring at warehouse managers for not giving their workers enough time to eat, for example, or how he actually behaved properly during parties that even the people who genuinely hated him would find it hard to set him up for a scandal. Vanessa recalled moments when the vice CEO gave credits where it was due and praised her meticulousness. She also recalled how he fired a warehouse manager on the spot for poorly treating people who transferred the loads off their ships.

“Frankly, I don’t think people these days care to look at announcement board anymore,” he once said. “But people are on phone all the time. If you can remember getting back to replying to a meme your friend left the night prior, I sincerely hope my work-related posts will get the same treatment!”

While others gulped, Vanessa secretly praised the decision.

“But Mr. Frelia, your privacy,” one of them reasoned, only quickly treated to the vice CEO’s smirk.

“If I don’t want you to know what I’d like to keep for myself, it wouldn’t be there,” he simply replied. “I don’t think anyone would be interested in knowing what I’m thinking…” he chuckled, but vanquished the laughter when realizing the people in the room appeared so sorrowful. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t particularly care since I don’t see anything scandalous on my Instagram board so far.”

 _Does he really think of many things? Does he also behave like this off-work, with mind constantly racing and formulizing plans?_ _Does he not think of other things?_ Vanessa looked at him, a bit disappointed because the boss toned everything down exactly when his awareness kicked in.

“True, considering you are a workaholic panzer,” someone from the HRD whispered.

“I’m posting these things so you can prepare better,” Innes shrugged. “I’d rather have you come late just because you are giddy enough for some wonderful donuts across the street or because you are too tired to wake up in the morning rather than being in-time but less perceptible than a turtle when I need you in the meeting room. Hunger and exhaustion are humane, but deliberate carelessness is not.”

 _Of cooourse,_ some people mumbled sarcastically.

 _Reasonable,_ Vanessa thought… sincerely.

“I play fairly, and I only expected so from my team,” Innes set his laptop on the desk as he spoke, “I will fairly compensate you for the work you shall be doing for me, and that includes overtime. If you feel like you have not received what you are promised, come to me directly.”

 _Like anyone will have the gall to,_ some same lips mumbled again.

 _Like he even tolerates people enough to let them nearby,_ other lips concurred.

 _Oh?_ —Vanessa cocked an eyebrow. But the people who sat close to her were already whispering tales of horror and conquests, like how the Frelian heir demanded someone to redo a report because of paragraph incoherence, he thought; and how he really called another person immature when that person casually told him he just lost a compiled document to an internet malware, since he saved everything in Drive C but “It’s alright because I can ask my team to send me again.”

“You expect me to appreciate you while you don’t seem to appreciate what others did for you?” she had heard the Frelian heir sharply commented. “You are the team leader in that project. A flawed commander who caused problems to his unit deserves to be removed.”

The meeting proceeded.

“Sir,” Vanessa raised her hand. As all breaths stopped in the room because people anticipated a _murder_ —more so when they noticed how Innes’ eyebrows twitched as his eyes sharply cornering her.

“Yes?”

“The screen,” Vanessa replied, “you misconnected the cable. The projection failed.”

 _Did this new girl just tell him that he made a MISTAKE?_ Some people murmured in disbelief. But Vanessa did not look like she was joking, and some others started calling her names for wanting to be a pet.

But Innes simply glanced at the whiteboard after hearing her reason. “… Ah. Yes, it appears to be so. Then can you come here and help me fixing it?”

“Certainly,” Vanessa merely nodded, walking to where he was and did what she was asked.

“Thank you,” he commented curtly, but being close to face him like this Vanessa would have sworn she saw faint shades of red coloring his face. “I’m sorry for wasting everyone’s precious minutes.”

 _Feh, longer would be nicer—_ now the senior workers also glared at Vanessa.

Nevertheless, when Innes announced he was alright with sharing work notifications through Instagram, Vanessa eagerly followed him. She was too aware of being a new face in the Tower, and if she wanted to follow in Syrene’s footprints, she could start from taking example of the older sister’s professionalism. Thus she tapped **_@nidhogg_** , half-enthusiastic and half-nervous at the same time. However true to his words—always, Vanessa thought again—Innes’ Instagram was nearly as flat as his work life. Most of the contents were shots of his paperwork, cocktail parties, fundraising parties— _oh right, he is dirty-filthy rich, alright,_ her best friend, the biochemist and researcher Lute, commented one time when she told the MENSA member about her new job with the maritime trading company.

So far Vanessa only followed him as scheduled, and he did compensate for her overtimes. Innes was pretty thoughtful despite what he demanded of his employees—not just when it concerned the wage, but how he hardly bothered their private lives despite having each other on social media such as Instagram. The respectful-yet-distant conduct slash demeanor Innes displayed to others both online, offline, whether they were or not in office hours made his private life entirely his, and due to his taciturn if not solitary tendency, Vanessa—let alone everyone else—hesitated to interact with him on social media for chit-chat. Innes would still be holed up in office room even on occasion of overtimes when she already concluded her work and prepared to go home. So even though Vanessa would want to wonder what her boss would be like off-hours, in the end he was pretty much alert and guarded so that not even his tidbits of likes-dislikes ever leaked crystal-clear to everyone else.

… Little did she know it would change on one fateful day when Lute shared a photo privately.

 ** _prodigiggle_  
** _V, look who is there. Prince Moneybags attended the marine awareness conference I was at._

 ** _dutifulrider_  
** _Who is this?_

 **_prodigiggle  
_ ** _… Your forgotten best friend?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Oh, Lute. Omg. Did you change your handle?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Yeah, because I find human behavior fascinating?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _I thought you only care for microorganism._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Yeah but DNA is like, half human. I want full human. Do you eat donut dough?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Of course I don’t?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Even if it’s Master Cakes’s?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Lute. I. DO NOT._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
See, I know you will understand! Love you, V._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Lute, for the 50 th time though, his name is Innes by the way._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Mr. Suitsman McSuitedup. So, ‘Innes’ is his nickname?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _That is his real name… never mind, what’s the matter with his suit?_

And Vanessa tapped the photo for the first time after Lute sent to her. It was indeed Innes the Draconic Sniper—as her coworkers dubbed him, for his astuteness, sharpness of the tongue which they begrudgingly admitted to reach the target or whatever Innes wanted the other person spoke to him about. And yes, Innes was in a suit. He was clad in a light brown suit which he wore over a white shirt while his necktie matched the color of his blazer. The earthly tone blended pretty harmoniously with his silvery greenish-blonde hair, but in a room where many men went old school with the holy trinity of charcoal gray, black, and navy blue suits, he looked rather stand-out.

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Everything. Is he a dandy? He did not seem to be bothered._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
-shrugs- Well he is a confident person but._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
That means a dandy._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
What did he do there though?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
He is interested in marine conservation. People are interested in his money._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
That’s mean._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
I am not. They are, though. But apparently he followed some journals already. V, seriously, if this guy wants to brag, at least he puts his mouth where all the money is. You know I don’t typically respect the likes of him businessmen? Make money, destroy environment, then treat us scientists like a toilet cleaner._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Did he get a chance to speak at all there?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Yes. “I urge us to collectively stop being collective bunch of morons and listen to Mother Nature.”_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Alright then, that was truly him and not a doppelganger._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
With a straight face. Then he proceeded to the formal part welcoming the scientists._

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Yep, that was truly him then. Innesander the Great, conqueror of Personhood._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
His sister looked like she just swallowed a podium and could not cough it out because the podium melted and became her hair instead when he said that. Poor girl. Is there a chance that she was adopted?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
LUTE_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
I’m not drunk, have some respect for the forgotten bff who got you eye-candy._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Alright, I was worried for a second. Where are you then?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
In Kyle’s bed. Why?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Oh my—GOD._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
That’s what Kyle said though._

Vanessa locked her phone again, finally able to close her mouth at the same time. She rolled on the bed, her feet were up against the wall while her hand dug into a potato chips bag she was having.

She took a picture of it.

 ** _dutifulrider_** _Got this spicy beauty from the minimarket. If you are into ferocious cheese-flavored potato chips or simply feeling like murdering your coworkers, this one won’t disappoint you. Rawr! Hehe._

Beep…

 **_greenergrass_ ** _Oh my God._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Please Kyle, stop saying that for today **@greenergrass**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _How come you kept posting these simple delights yet none landed at my house?_ _:(_

Vanessa chuckled, throwing her phone to somewhere-whocares on the bed. Alright, she’d buy Forde later. And probably two liters of milk, knowing Forde and spicy foods were a marriage made in hell.

Beep.

Vanessa imagined Lute would bug her (or rather, filled her in) with subtle details of her mischievous adventures in Kylesbedville like before, and suddenly she felt rather lonely. She loved her job, the Frelias paid both her and Syrene well—true to their words as employers. But thinking how even Syrene lost all her propriety with Gilliam at a fast food restaurant during a lunch—and even Lute, whose scientific pursuits deterred too many men—Vanessa grinned. Lute just did not want to admit she changed the handle because she was in such a lovey-dovey mood with Kyle.

 ** _prodigiggle_**  
_Hey, Kyle suddenly asked if you are an atheist. I don’t even know! I mean, are you? Or are you now?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Shut up, Lute._

… Beep…

Vanessa sighed. How to tell your friends to just do their thing—virtually quietly again? Still, she picked up the phone.

 ** _nidhogg_** _liked this._

 ** _nidhogg_** _Am I one of these coworkers in your to-kill list, **@dutifulrider**?_

Suddenly the spices were too strong and Vanessa found herself choking on a chip and she coughed and she coughed and and and—

 ** _dutifulrider_** _Certainly not, Sir, you are my boss, not a coworker **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Disappointing mediocre answer, **@dutifulrider.**_

 ** _prodigiggle_**  
_Does this mean you are done for?_

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_What?_

 ** _prodigiggle_**  
_I’ll check if my lab needs a secretary._

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_Sorry?_

 ** _prodigiggle_**  
_Innesander the Conqueror is displeased right, V? OMG IF HE FIRES YOU I’LL BURN THAT BROWN SUIT._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Well I can assist you with other things besides murder, **@nidhogg.**_

Silence.

Vanessa buried her face in her pillow, suddenly feeling utterly ridiculous. She and Innes had been nothing but professionally amiable so far, but even then usually their conversations revolved around jobs. Frelia Enterprise was a maritime trading company, specializing in wholesale seafood trade although they also engaged in other marine products. They bought from sea-shell collectors, sponsored artisans to work together to market their product, stock some marine products to supply abroad or typical grocery stores to five-star restaurants, harvested algae for nutritious herbal products—everything they could ethically laid a hand on. Being Innes’ assistant was akin to a junior secretary—filing things which were specifically Innes’ share of workload in the company, sometimes even taking notes when either he or his younger sister Tana mingled with other socialites during corporate parties. Innes never said anything which indicated displeasure so far…

Well, if anything it was not like she and Innes interacted more than what professional boundaries decided. They would exchange friendly greetings, and somehow as she made a habit to eat breakfast outside, she had begun to pick up his food as well. At first she noticed how he tended to be the first to arrive at their floor—and the last to leave. It was only months later Vanessa noticed her boss only got to eat using meeting coffee breaks, and acted like nothing happened, keeping his cold, professional  composure as the day went on. Lunch would come and he either had a feast or had the feast delivered to his desk. Vanessa then would hear the whispers and giggles about him being a glutton, and for the first time she felt very angry that she was close to lash out at her coworkers.

Sometime ago, ‘The boss worked harder, much harder than everyone else’ was her conclusion after following him during those months. True, Innes’ orders sometimes came rapidly if not barraging. But at the same time with those quirks and habits she noticed, she had realized that Innes was actually aware of what she and others did. Innes made notes. When even his own sister teased him that he should be his own personal secretary, Innes simply reasoned that nobody could remember everything in a short time because if you multitasked, it would be easy to feel overwhelmed. So in order not to burden people in case he got overwhelmed, he tracked things on his own. “Vanessa, please fetch me what we typed yesterday.”

“Sir, is the file…”

“… FreliYes001 dot docx, can you find it?”

“Yes, but um—‘FreliYes’, Sir?”

“Yes for yesterday created at one PM. Easier to remember.”

And Vanessa had to nod. She could only get to nod when Innes—surprisingly, to many, had they seen that—did not actually lash out at her when she tripped and accidentally knocked his black coffee out of the desk. Shattering glass resonated with her trembling hands; her cold sweat started running down her collar as she mumbled a weak apology. She had determined to follow in Syrene’s footsteps. A professional career woman, who was also humane at the same time. But Syrene would not break a glass like that. And Syrene surely would not destroy her employer’s drink.

“Rider.”

That curt tone. The cold, cold tone which chastised people’s flaws. And Vanessa wanted to disappear.

“Come here.”

“Sir—“ _shit,_ she thought again, because her tears were on their way. _Shit shit shit shit—_

“Come on, sit with me here,” the Frelian heir gestured, grabbing a little box on his desk. “… Hmmm. Not injured, are you? The drink did not spill on you.”

“… Sir?”

“Is something wrong?”

“My—father, Sir,” she whispered, nearly past her limit. “He fell ill. I…”

“I’m sending you home. Go tend to him.”

“But that report—“

“I will do it. After all, I am the boss.”

“And I suppose,” her voice trembled. “You hired me as your assistant.”

“Precisely. Because you are here to _assist me_ at what _I’m_ _supposed to be doing._ Clear?”

Vanessa nodded, and Innes moved closer to pat her shoulder. … The first body contact which did not involve professional handshakes or courteous nods they exchanged. “And Syrene…”

“Do you want me to send her home as well?”

Vanessa was nearly speechless at this point. “N-no, Sir. It’s alright. I mean, if you please inform her that I’m leaving early…”

“Of course I can. Only if you are sure.”

“Y-yes. She is better off at work. I don’t want her to be miserable as well.”

“I see. So, I take that you are used to taking care of others?”

Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but Innes’ eyes looked tender and his words were soft. “I’m always the steeled one. I don’t want to distress my sister, she thrives best when she is happy.”

“I guess that makes you and I… rather similar.”

Vanessa sat still. The tissue he gave her was now clutched tightly in her grip, but—

 _He chuckles,_ she noticed.

So just like prior, he was indeed laughing. Laughing, just laughing—

And unfortunately, she noticed something else. “I wet your shirt, Sir.”

“The drink did.”

Unfortunately—well, fortunately this time, that sharp tongue knew how to win arguments.

“Go get your father, Rider. If you did not contact me until tonight I would simply assume you would still be nursing him, and that is how I will treat your absence tomorrow.”

 _He let me be the one who contacts instead of him being the employer who will hunt me down for losing a day of productivity._ “Mr. Frelia, Sir—“

“… I once proposed we conducted work-related information via Instagram,” he replied, “and I also said I wanted to do things fairly. That is off-office hour. I will not bug you when you are on a leave.”

“I’ll return as soon as I know everything is taken care of, Sir, and I believe nothing is dire.”

“Perhaps I should not overwork you as well,” the Frelian heir mumbled. “Would you care to accompany me crossing the street so we can pick up some pastries for your sick father before you leave?”

That very day Innes gently ushered her to cross the street. She had her bag and coat on while he strolled out of the Tower in a more casual manner—rolled sleeves, no-tie, no-blazer, one button open. People nearly gawked when they went out, especially since his hand was at the small of her back, despite respectfully. Did not matter to them that Innes’ predicament was due to the drink stains.

And Vanessa still held the tissue in her grip before she felt her boss semi-yanking her so that his body covered hers. He stood before her, and she found herself safe when something flashed at them. Everyone stood speechless as Innes glared, his hand quickly seized a phone directed at him. “Whose phone is this?” oh boy, that voice. Deadlier than hypothermia, yet sounded no less cold than his typical curt tone. That afternoon Vanessa learned her boss was a waterfall, and when pushed by the right force that waterfall could generate silent, destructive _thunder_ out of its deep trench.

“M-mine,” some lousy office worker responded meekly.

“Let her through and I will return this to you.” Innes spoke again. Vanessa did not expect Innes to go that far for her. And being in close proximity to observe him from the back, Vanessa began noticing how, despite his appearance, her boss was actually athletically fit and looked like he could knock out others cold if he gave a try. “Frankly, I don’t bloody care if your sad little pathetic ass decided to sell a photo of me to other sad little pathetic press fleas,” her boss inhaled, trying to contain anger in his throat. “But have some decency. This lady has a sick father she needs to attend to, and I pity your unloved-self growing up that a little respectful gesture like this is easily taken as romantic demeanor worthy of your giddy consumption.”

Murmurs. Sighs. _Decency, he said—_ people snickered.

 _So that little bitch gains favor, huh—_ they said.

 _Holy shit, he mutilated that wannabe-paparazzi,_ others whispered.

“H-have it your way,” the lousy fellow nearly shat his pants there, and Innes deleted the photo before coldly tucking it back into the fellow’s shirt pocket.

… And later that day Innes asked if she could get to her train all by herself, which she concurred. And unexpectedly—

“Sir—I… thank you,” she held a box containing macaroons he got her from Master Cakes—and another, containing some breads, also from Master Cakes. The pastries _he_ paid for. And he did not think twice handing his card to the counter.

“I hope the macaroons are good enough for you.”

Master Cakes is _magnificent_ for everyone—Vanessa wanted to protest, but— “For me?”

“Yes? Who did I pay them for?”

“And the… breads?”

“For your father? Why, you look so surprised. I have shopped pastries before, of course.”

“It’s just…” she shook her head. She had to shake her head. Heir to the Frelian wealth and business empire—who was untouchably cold and taciturn—… bought her macaroons.

“Do not debate me. You will lose,” Innes held a hand to call for a taxi. It would appear that he was ushering her out, but Vanessa caught subtle playfulness when he said she would lose regardless.

And perhaps he was right.

With her father tended and macaroons enjoyed, surprisingly enough from the hospital room Vanessa did not have any urge to post her snacks as she typically would. Watching over her sleeping father, Vanessa mindlessly scrolled down her Instagram feed.

Precisely, checking _his_ profile.

 ** _nidhogg_** _Review for shrimp and other non-fish sales graphs._ **_@gracefulwing_** _I’d like you to attend on behalf of your sister. Details on the caption._

Vanessa noticed Innes did not tag her and she secretly commended him.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Delightful breads **@MasterCakes,** am I too late to place an order for 10 AM tomorrow?_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _Innes **@nidhogg** for the love of anything holy, please take a rest. Get a more relaxed hobby besides HEMA swords, archery, and sharpshooting. Annoying Ephraim **@sharkwrestler** does not count. _

_So he exercised?_ —Vanessa bit into her orange macaroon, reading the comment posted on the meeting photo and tapped on the profile.

**_soaringhiii_ ** _Tan Fre / college student / I love my friends and world peace._

The girl had dark blue-indigo hair, and Vanessa immediately recognized her to be the same girl who attended the conference which Lute and Innes did. _Tan Fre. Of course, his sister—Tana,_ Vanessa recalled one Sunday tabloid's socialite section included the siblings on their interview. Suddenly she felt so ashamed of herself for feeling like spying on her boss.

 **_MasterCakes_ ** _good evening, this is Finn from Master Cakes, I’d like to know the details first **@nidhogg**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _tagging **@dutifulrider** because I miss our milk tea and cake outing :/ can we like eat macaroons or ice cream or something? V, do you like macaroons? I’m dying, I want some snacks._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _I’ll hear what the doc says first **@artsywarrior** and lemme check what the job gimme._

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Your boss must be sadistic **@dutifulrider** is it Marquis de Sade? Monsieur de Sass?_

 _God—no, it’s Innes Frelia who just bought me macaroons and liked my snack posts with you_ —

Soft vibration. … The phone.

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Evening._

Vanessa genuinely fell off her chair.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Mr. Frelia!! My God._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Your father recovered._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Oh yes, exactly!! Thank you!! … How do you know?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Haha._

Vanessa now bumped into a hospital bed. She gasped, her cheeks all red. She did not realize she typed all those things instead of responding… professionally. Tactfully.

Vibration again.

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Your boss must be a closeted nerd who is into unusual shit. Marquis de Sade was an asshole._

Vibration…

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Does Norse mythology count?  The serpent Nidhogg aimed to destroy Yggdrassil’s roots. I like the lesson of trying to strike a powerful opponent or perceived trouble straight to the point, thus my handler._

Vanessa nearly spilled mineral water.

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_You are not going to kill my friend. ... Right, Mr. Frelia?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Did you like the macaroons?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Very much so, Sir. Thank you again._

Silence.

Not too long though.

 ** _nidhogg_** _Hey,_ **_@artsywarrior_** , _go get macaroons with **@dutifulrider**. Thank me later. _

**_artsywarrior_ ** _Huh lol thx dude but who is this haha **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Monsieur de Sass, certainement. Bonjour **@artsywarrior.**_

Vanessa legit wanted to inject herself with ibuprofen at this point.

 ** _artsywarrior_** _OMFGheccfucc I’m so fucking sorry there Sir please don’t fire her **@nidhogg**!! **@dutifulrider** come back quickly and wrap my ass in a tin foil and bake me alive, I’m so sorry V omfg. I’m dead._

Vanessa reached for the phone, impatiently went on to the direct message feature.

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Mr. Frelia—_

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_I’m not going to fire you. He is right, de Sade was an asshole._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
SIR_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
>:)_

Back to the present, Vanessa stopped reminiscing of the very first time her supposedly untouchable boss cracked a joke with her (and nearly paralyzed Forde, of course). Glancing at the phone one more time she noticed how the phone did not beep, neither was its notification light on.

Somehow she felt a bit disappointed.

_Beep…_

Vanessa nearly hammered her own thigh with her ankle for taking her feet off the wall when she leaped to get the phone. Notification light? On. Where was the newsfeed?

She nearly considered of hiring an assassin for her cell phone provider’s executives when the bungled connection finally showed the reply she anticipated.

_Anticipated…_

Vanessa sighed, disappointed again. But somehow she was eager about that, so she refreshed.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _We are living. **@sharkwrestler** **@silverlance** **@sharksrightactivist**._

There was a photo of Innes toasting a fine glass of chardonnay with three other people. Two of them really resembled each other with their teal hairs and similar face features, and there was a red-haired man with a polite smile sitting between the Frelian heir and the teal-haired beautiful lady.

_Beautiful lady…_

**_sharksrightactivist_ ** _Eirika Renais. The good twin of he who wrestles sharks with bare hands during summer [citation needed] **@sharkwrestler.** Co-owner of Renais Enterprise with my brother._

 _Another rich socialite. A **beautiful** rich socialite, _she contemplated.

_Scroll, scroll scroll—_

**_sharksrightactivist_** _Thank you for the ride, **@nidhogg**! Great to see you at_ **_@greenpeace._**

 **_sharksrightactivist_ ** _Draw! Rapier men’s solo. **@sharkwrestler** is not happy... but great job **@nidhogg**!_

 **_sharksrightactivist_ ** _Came in the mail today thank you **@nidhogg** for The Brothers Karamazov._

Vanessa shoved four potato chips all at once into her mouth.

_Beep—_

**_nidhogg_ ** _Yes. Chips. **@dutifulrider**_

Vanessa smiled so hard that her cheeks hurt as she typed an affirmative reply.

* * *

 

Innes glanced at the clock in his office room. A privileged spacious one for vice CEO as himself, the room offered just the right comfort he needed for him to work.

Eight o’clock.

He started turning on his computer, his handwritten notes scattered on his desk. He went through the latest emails he received in the morning, and was nearly surprised since that took shorter than what he thought it would be, when…

Innes’ sharp gaze landed on another note near his elbow. A different paper than what he usually used, the paper was akin to what a secondary student tended to keep in their binder. Colorful floral motif served as decoration of the lined paper, with cheerful ‘happy summer’ written over it. Of course it was not currently summer, but the paper’s uniqueness made it stand out among his other notes, and for some reason Innes found his mood improved. His life was organized. He did not like most surprises because based on his experiences, it was usually people who walked in on him because they needed a favor. Because to them he was a reliable, responsible person. While he did not exactly hate the supposedly positive opinion they had about him, sometimes he could not help but wondering what would happen if he was no longer that person. If some days he was to be weak or failing.

_That is why I can’t fail. I will make it to success, even if I have to crawl._

Innes took the unusual paper. Of course it was not his. He caught a simple initial and carved date written on the right corner of the paper, and he had failed to suppress a faint smile. His new assistant was certainly younger, true. But that very moment it was as if her innocence—for the lack of a better word, was showing, since she ought to reflexively did that as if she was still in college and taking notes.

Or perhaps she did not slip. Perhaps she did that to help her organizing better.

Innes settled his thoughts on the latter. Vanessa was not innocent, she was honest—Innes felt satisfied to feel like the lack of a better word had been corrected—a dedicated hard-worker, a quality he felt he could resonate with. And although he never said it to her out loud, he would want to make sure his new assistant was aware that the efforts she put into assisting him was not unappreciated.

Vanessa’s note contained a list of emails he received the day prior, in the last minutes before her office time was over. He had to leave his desk because a shipyard analyst was visiting straight from the harbor, so he asked Vanessa to answer his phone and a couple of emails he already instructed how. What Innes did not expect was Vanessa, although not touching anything he did not include in what he asked of her before exiting the door, had written a list of senders, subjects, and received dates as she sat there waiting for him to return, facing his computer’s monitor. The list was akin to an offline, portable Microsoft Outlook because it gave him a quick idea of who the senders were, reminding him of his businesses with each of them.

If Innes wanted to be honest with himself, reluctant was a mild way to describe his hesitation when his father informed him about finding a new assistant. The people he had before Vanessa did not satisfy him, and it did not take long for Innes to learn that they equally despised him. Abuse of authority was not something new he witnessed, being a person with a lot of lobbying power himself. But what others did not know was that he was willing to overlook some things, the way he was actually aware that he was hard to deal with—as long as the performance he demanded was fulfilled, as long as the honor code of fair play was observed.

Innes did not interact with Syrene Rider often, because most of the time the woman was busy doing things for his father. But Hayden, despite his way more-tempered tongue, was an old dragon who did not play when it was the time to be serious, so he also took it as something serious when Hayden praised Syrene and began entrusting more sensitive information and tasks to her. The Frelias tended to keep people at a safe distance. But one time when Innes learned not only did Hayden give Syrene a raise and asked if she knew someone who could try to assist— _handle_ , Innes smirked darkly—Innes, the Frelian heir soon learned that Syrene’s presence as Hayden’s workforce was not subtle anymore. For someone who found it hard to trust people, Innes’ opinion regarding the Rider sisters gradually changed because Syrene laid down all the qualities she thought of her younger sister without flowers and thorns at the same time. _She is caring, she handles pressure well and composed. She will try to do the best when entrusted with anything, but at the same time she may be oblivious to other things. Pretty shy and definitely an introvert who dreads social parties, but she appreciates genuine well-meaning gestures…_

Innes never thought that Vanessa was actually pretty similar to him in some ways. How she refused to leave the desk when she had not finished what he asked of her. How honest she was when she told him what she could do and what she could not do. “I suck at Microsoft Access,” one time Vanessa bluntly told him, “but I can learn. Thank you for being patient with me, Mr. Frelia.”

And he _liked_ that about her. He secretly appreciated how she would Google how-to tips when he lingered around, accidentally witnessing what his employees did on their computers without his stern watchful eyes. Mostly he found others to have a tab with Facebook or Tumblr open, which he could not care more than he was concerned if his sandwich was cold. But Vanessa’s diligence was one of a kind, like how she quickly Googled Rausten Corp for a quick background cheat sheet when he tasked her to call its heiress, the eccentric refined L’Arachel, to set up a meeting for their maritime trade business. One time he caught Vanessa having free online grammar courses open while mouthing conversational lines she was learning. One another, he caught her browsing how to effectively communicate with people who did not speak English as their mother tongue without burdening or making them feel inadequate since the Tower would be receiving college interns from other countries due to the MoU of goodwill Hayden signed. While he was trained in cultural sensitivity as an international business major, she was not, and he secretly praised her efforts to make others feel welcome and constantly cultivate herself despite occupying a strategic, if not high position within his workforce.

… Which was why he did not hesitate to send her home when she eventually confessed that her father fell ill. That moment Innes secretly admitted that he _trusted_ her. Vanessa was eager to catch up with him. During her first months being there, she would approach him to verify whenever she found his orders weren’t clear. She would confirm everything again with him, and when he thought he was nearly losing his patience because she would ask him things, a sudden realization crept into him that she was the first assistant to actually ever ask those things to learn and not just because they wanted to evade his wrath. By slowly explaining things to Vanessa, Innes had learned that he was not perfect, that what he thought was easy turned out to be not, and he learned to speak clearer so people who did not share his background or area of expertise could follow.

That morning Innes could not resist a chuckle for suddenly being reminded that within this year he actually had some one-on-one session with Vanessa, multiple times, where he would explain engineering terms and what marine engineering—structural marine engineering in his case—tried doing. Or how relaying those calculations to Vanessa actually helped him to recheck his logic and decision-making process because even if the numbers could be right, how they were made might be not because of her serious questions. And with it, he learned that he did overlook some things. How he concentrated on the bigger picture that he nearly forgot domestic business engagements. How, despite knowing international business laws, sometimes even warehouses which operated under their company’s banner abused workers. Vanessa specialized where he lacked, and she helped him going through things again, forcing him to confront that being too-detailed might mean being _annoyingly_ nitpicky, or that he could be _wrong._

Innes brought her note closer to his eyes again before putting it back on the table. He then started running his pen over the paper, ticking the names which he had replied and wrote shorter notes about what his reply contained or suggested so he could return the note to her later.

These contemplations and actions happened before his phone vibrated, and when he checked, he was pleased that Lachesis from Master Cakes confirmed that the pastries he had ordered for his meeting with the Renais twins could be picked up around an hour before the meeting started.

Master Cakes meant Instagram. And by Instagram…

He was mindlessly following back Vanessa when Instagram notified that his then new-assistant started following him. He recalled Syrene calling her a shy introverted person, and Vanessa’s Instagram gave him a peek into her life and fun she had with some recurring faces, which then he assumed to be cherished treasured friends. A contradiction to his feed, where he was meeting many people because of what his job and background demanded of him. One club to another, one high-class resort to another. One business class airport lounge to another, one five-star hotel to another, one Michelin-starred restaurant to another … Yet there was her account, containing soft drinks, snacks, and lunches she grabbed on the go or things he would never dream of being photographed.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Otw to #ValniTower and this squeezed flower blooms!_

… Innes did sure remember the very first post he saw shortly after following Vanessa’s Instagram. It was a simple picture of some orange flower, planted over a small swath squeezed between two pillars at the station. He used to find it rather weird to pay attention to little things which barely concerned anything, but curiosity got the best of him as he scrolled down to read more of the post. At first sure he did not think more than wanting to have an idea what kind of person his newest employee was.

 **_greenergrass_ ** _At the station huh **@dutifulrider**_

 ** _dutifulrider_** _Yes! Made my morning tbh hehe_ **_@greenergrass_** _I feel like I can do anything now!_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _Haha that’s the spirit! Good luck there Vanessa **@dutifulrider**._

At that time, Innes’ curiosity bloomed and he craved to scroll more.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Extra cheap wing bucket combo for Ladies’ Day with **@XXXprodigyXXX**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Found this porcelain penguin at an antique shop’s garage sale._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Chai latte~_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Studying #UNCLOS and how it affects the fishery industry_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _What foooor **@dutifulride** r ???_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _**@artsywarrior** I want to be able to work better and it’ll be such a waste to be here without learning anything new!_

Still, if he did not follow her, he would nearly forget that simpler times and happiness did exist, the way he would nearly forget that his normalcy was not others’ kind of normalcy. That he could get a wagyu steak whenever he wanted, but somewhere else another person was poor and homeless they had to buy leftover cold sandwiches from closing fast food joints at ungodly hours. There was Tana to keep him grounded, but regardless, Tana was his sister, someone who was born into the same socialite circle as he did, and was raised within the same circle. There was also Eirika, the kind-hearted twin sister of his self-decided archrival Ephraim, but then again she was also from the upper-class family like he was, and despite the catastrophe which befell her family after the Renais’ patriarch’s death three years ago, the twins got help from many people and saw how their corporation revitalized, making a comeback to reestablish itself in the business world.

But Vanessa was a nobody—in the sense of her not being a public figure like the Frelias, who only knew hard work and perseverance as her ammunitions to buy her the tickets she needed to brave through life. Nothing she got was earned free under the sun, and although he could boast his own work ethos, having Vanessa close by humbled him because it forced him to confront his own privilege—as a man, let alone a really rich one too. And he found himself wondering if he could do these things he was doing had he was not a Frelia, or that if misfortune befell his family the way it did the Renais. If he could even pursue what he wanted, which just _happened_ to be in-line with his company’s interest. If he could even complete his bachelor’s degree because he could engross himself studying and doing calculus from sunrise to sunset because he did not need to think of anything else. Meanwhile he had heard that even Syrene took up temporary modeling job to pay for her and Vanessa’s school tuition, something the older Rider did not seem actually really like herself.

Looking back, Innes now fully understood why he did not regret his decision threatening an employee who had tried snapping a photo of him and Vanessa the moment he ushered her to the cake shop. The worst that could happen to him was people begrudgingly talking smack behind his back, but Vanessa’s life was more than at stake. He thought he did catch someone calling her a bitch, and now he realized none of those people would use colorful languages in a similar way they would potentially do her. He had been called an asshole, to which he merely shrugged. But ‘bitch’ seemed to be reserved for certain a demography, and it was interesting how she was quickly seen as an obstacle compared to how the same people would never think that it could be the other way around by accusing him of exploiting her there, for example.

There was a soft knocking outside, so he stopped contemplating. If he looked uncertain, how could he instill a sense of reliability in the hearts of others?

“Come in.”

“Good morning—Sir,” Vanessa’s face peeked in. After more than a year the way she greeted him still remained the same. And it had been months since she showed up at his office room carrying… food. Her softened expression changed into a frown when she darted a glance at his cluttered desk. “There won’t be a room for your breakfast.”

Like that, her typical honest, to-the-point speech manner returned.

“You did this again today, huh?” Innes cocked an eyebrow. “I have an attentive babysitter.”

“Mr. Frelia, Sir…” as he expected, her face turned red, at an instant.

Innes turned away from her to smirk. After knowing his assistant for all these times he now understood that Vanessa’s honesty was her doom. His dedicated serious assistant seemed to be prone to his teasing, and he had found himself sincerely chuckling because of the genuine reactions she displayed.

… Yet something about that somehow gathered his resolve to shield her from the predatory high-class society, or the true nature of how cruel the world of money could be. He would not tease her when she was seen in public with him, knowing too much the potential scrutiny she would be facing.

“Is that cinnamon roll?” he defused the situation, casually pointing at her box.

“Oh, these? Yes! I figured you also love Master Cakes because I remember you said their cakes are tasty but not overwhelming,” her eyes lighted up for a second. “Let’s see… yesterday it was tuna sandwiches. The day before I got you a chicken wrap. And three days ago, it was…”

He quietly listened to her recalling the breakfasts she delivered to his office room. Blessing in disguise happened when he asked if she had gotten used to the Tower’s pantry, since there were some leftover breakfast donuts and he noticed she hardly took anything from the pantry like everyone else. She had innocently asked him what donuts because she figured some people were either allergic to certain things or they were vegan, and he frankly replied he did not know.

“I rarely eat in the morning,” he confessed to her then. “I usually conduct businesses and contact people from the other side of the world because the mornings make their perfect evenings. Can’t lose chance.”

So, Vanessa simply nodded and picked up the double tenderloin he ordered for lunch. Little did he know that his assistant had decided to take the breakfast matter into her own hands because the next day she did her usual morning greetings—with a box containing meat pie. “I just got here from Master Cakes and this came as a freebie with my purchase, so I wonder if you’d help me, Mr. Frelia?”

Of course it did not take long for him to piece two and two together, and Master Cakes did not give the pie—neither did the smoked beef sandwich, cheese rollcake, melonpan—as extras for certain purchase. When he greeted her arrival with a pair of diving, knitted eyebrows, the collected Vanessa reflexively clutched on her file folder, which then she held against her chest. “Rider, I _hate_ liars,” he whispered, holding a box of banana nuggets she entrusted to Gilliam because she was preoccupied at the lobby. “So, why?”

“I just—“

“Do I look _that_ pathetic that you had to take pity on me?”

“No, Sir…”

“Or do you see me as a man needing to be taken care of like a toddler?”

“Of course not!”

“Then tell me!”

When she reflexively dropped the file folder, Innes immediately regretted what he did. True that he was angry. Her buying food without telling him reminded him of moments where people doubted him just because they saw him like an odd cat which never truly belonged.

… Well, in a way it was right. He was the odd cat that never truly belonged because he thought they even hardly took him seriously. From what he aspired to do, his vision for the future as well as the company, his passion to revitalize the ocean despite profiting from it. How other socialites treated him like a curio where they hesitated to approach him, akin to poking a curious animal with a stick just to see a reaction. How normal people—people who did not belong in the high-class society would hesitate with him, treating him like a prince that they’d either shun him completely or trying so hard to accommodate him that he lost his sense of sincerity. Then Vanessa and her sister came, seemingly to fill the gap so far only Tana and probably his childhood friends the Renais twins could. But those three were also socialites, and there was still some reservation lingering around them if not his personal awkwardness towards the more-carefree Ephraim. It did not say that there were no boundaries with Vanessa though. There was, which now he thought served him more than it did her as he was used to retreat and withdraw due to how other people looked at him. But Vanessa gave him the chances to let loose feelings things he thought he had forgotten, so the last thing he wanted would be driving Vanessa away, turning her into yet another statistics. For the first time, Innes admitted he wanted people to be comfortable with him just the way he was—not because they thought they had to—while he took time to introspect his own flaws he usually just took to sleep.

“… I’m sorry, Sir…”

“No—“ he took the folder she dropped. “ _I am_ sorry.”

She looked at him, half uncertain and half—

_Scared?_

“… So why then?”

His assistant caught the change. With the tempering tone, retreating body language—anything that desperately tried to communicate that he was no danger to her, and he regretted his burst of anger. Vanessa inhaled, and that very moment her firmness returned. “I thought you were hungry.”

And then Innes found himself agape. He even arched a bit to match her eyes, but she did not budge. The honest yet firmly resolved Vanessa he knew was back in the room. “You thought I was… hungry,” he repeated, more to himself than her because the truth was, he just _could not_ believe it. He had expected some more ridiculous argument, weaseled reasoning, or backpedaling reaction. But she straight-up told him right away that it was nothing more than the matter of hunger.

“Yes! If you do that all the time, you may get sick.”

“Alright, reasonable,” he responded, too dumbfounded to think of anything else. “And I suppose if I’m unwell, the Tower loses a leg because there’s a productivity drop here.”

But she shook her head. “No, Sir. Because getting sick is not nice!”

Innes secretly pinched himself. _Really? That’s it?_ “… Not nice?”

“Yes, of course! Your head will ache. You will lose your appetite. You probably will get feverish and nauseous and then be confined to your bed. Nothing feels good enough because everything will be awful and you can’t even sleep soundly,” she, blissfully unaware of his astonishment, went on. “And then you’ll probably have to endure eating things you don’t like until you are well again.”

“… Oh. If that is the case, then why didn’t you just—“ Innes sighed, turning away to sit _on_ his desk table. He felt he needed it. Either to contain himself because somehow the simplicity in her answer was too much to process for him, or because he needed a time to berate himself for being so stupid.

“Oh,” Vanessa muttered, “exactly because I did not want you to feel chaperoned, Sir.” Her response was rather shy, as if people just caught her donating a large amount of money to a benevolent cause she wanted to keep secret.

“I… see,” the Frelian heir finally mustered a reply. “Sounds like I botched your plan.”

“Perhaps,” his assistant bobbed her head. “But the nuggets are still there.”

And then he chuckled. He chuckled, chuckled, chuckled—no, he _cackled_ —as his hand went down to dig in the banana nuggets she had brought. “Alright. How much do I owe you so far?”

“There is not much difference buying breakfast for one person or two,” Vanessa simply shook her head. “Besides, you paid me well. I need to put that good money for a good use.”

“As your employer, I’m relieved then,” he smirked. Thus that was how he got his food every morning. Although practically it was revealed now, Vanessa just kept doing that and somehow he did not even bother to object. The routine of her showing up at his office room to greet him first in the morning, the throbbing anticipation of what she might get him that day—the casual, relaxed morning atmosphere which improved his mood as well as it improved his chance to exchange informal interaction with her.

He had been wanting to pay her back, but while he was weighing in his options to be considerate—yet _professionally_ respectable, there was even less chance for that than getting private with Vanessa. She would greet him, deliver the food, and then retreated back to her cubicle, somewhere he could not touch, somewhere out of his realm that the exquisite wooden doors to his own office room barricaded.

“… That’s right! Because everything was a savory breakfast so I figured you probably wanted a change,” she finished her list, and he was pretty startled that he stopped his short visit to the memory lane. “Besides, I heard sweets make people happier.”

“Haha, sounds about right considering I’m a grumpy asshole?”

“Mr. Frelia, please stop teasing me…”

“Come to think of it, you’ve been working for me for… a year and a half, is that right?” when she nodded, he continued, “feels like forever.”

“Am I fired?” Vanessa’s eyes bulged.

“No?” Innes gaped. “That’s not what I meant. Since I’m pleasantly surprised, I wonder…”

_Can't you just call me Innes when we are alone?_

“… I’m getting a raise?”

“That is too early to discuss that, Rider.”

_And does it bother you I call you by your surname? Do you feel like I treat you like a man?_

“H-haha,” Vanessa awkwardly chuckled. “I—guess I can continue to pleasantly surprise you then.”

“Oh, do so. I like being made to consider things,” Innes returned her reply with a smile. “After all that’s what you have been doing so far as my assistant.”

“Speaking of which, Mr. Frelia.”

_Innes._

“What is it?”

“The chips,” she fetched something out of her bag. Her expression was akin to a teasing one as she put the big spicy potato chips bag on his desk. “And I put a carton of milk in the pantry’s fridge.”

“Just in case, huh?” he smirked again.

“No, Sir,” she softly shook her head, “because it may go well with your cinnamon rolls.”

_Vanessa—_

“Considerate, aren’t you?” Innes looked at the bag of chips.

“Glad to hear that, Sir,” she cheerfully nodded. “Good morning.”

And just then she disappeared behind those wooden doors. Again, slipping away where he could not touch, barricaded by professionalism. His VIP office room and her cubicle; eighty dollars he spent for the macaroons and the bread when she left to tend to her father versus—oh woe, he did not even know how much potato chips typically cost. But the breakfast treats—

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Chips which almost made my employees happy. … Almost._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _YOU made other people happy? **@nidhogg**_

 **_sharksrightactivist_ ** _You handed snacks for your team? **@nidhogg**_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _Father will be so proud **@nidhogg**_

 **_carcinogenic_ ** _You ate peasant food, **@nidhogg**?_

 **_tantdelumiere_ ** _Qu'est-ce que c'est mon cher? **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Eat shit, Ephraim **@sharkwrestler** oh no, I got curious of this one but you have a kind idea as always **@sharksrightactivist.** It’s a popular spicy potato chips which nearly paralyzed me, I can think of people rejoicing as it lifted me to the Heaven’s pearly gates /s. _

**_nidhogg_ ** _He already is. Try harder. **@soaringhiii**_

 ** _nidhogg_** _Bonjour L’Arachel; les chips de pommes épicées_ **_@tantdelumiere_**

 **_tantdelumiere_ ** _Aaa, comme c'est intéressant! Innes, c'est courageux de ta part. Bisous! **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _It’s just food. I won’t die… mais merci **@tantdelumiere**_

Even after knowing the Rausten heiress and her suaveness in approaching people, he still could not just type ‘kisses’ or other casual intimate-sounding greetings like she would, even in the virtual world.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Glad you still recognized food **@carcinogenic**_

Perhaps it was not so wise to coarsely ruffle Pablo’s feathers, but Innes was no priest.

 ** _dutifulrider_** _Are you alright eating them, Mr. Frelia?_ **_@nidhogg_**

Innes locked his phone again as his lips cracked to form a faint smile. He suddenly wondered what would cost both of them if he was to propose first-name basis with her.

* * *

 

Some other days, determination and perseverance were not enough to fuel her strength to survive Valni Tower. No matter how versatile and esteemed she was, Vanessa Rider was still a human, a young woman who did not always feel like humoring the crap thrown at her. That day was exhausting, and she found herself _cranky._ And all of these happened even before eleven. It started pretty unusual; something she truly did not see coming… and she was pleasantly surprised.

Only at first, though.

She did her usual morning—meeting Innes as always, with a wrapped-something and plastic cup in her hands. “Burrito and horchata, Sir?”

“And what did you get today?”

“… Burrito… and horchata,” Vanessa sheepishly averted her eyes. “I was late than usual so I did not have time to stroll somewhere else. I got it near my station.”

“So today we are matched,” Innes merely shrugged. His neutral tone successfully controlled the situation, but he secretly pondered that perhaps it would be interesting to see her reacting… not-so neutrally. Maybe. “… Say, would it be alright with you to eat in the pantry with me?”

“… Sir?”

“I need to make sure there weren’t—any leftover donuts like that time,” Innes tried to shrug again like it was nothing. Still, his expression remained composed as his tone being neutral. He was professional, alright—and gods be damned if he could _not_ be.

“If you keep covering for others like that then soon after you will be a one-man army,” she chuckled.

“Well, I don’t like leaving things hanging when I know something needs to be done, Rider,” Innes already motioned to the door, secretly breathed relief because she followed him instead of rejecting his invitation. “And I think you know well how much I dislike relying on others.”

“I honestly don’t, since you hired me,” Vanessa retorted.

“Now _you_ are teasing me,” Innes chuckled.

_He sounds even nicer when he is relaxed..._

Of course there were not any leftover donuts that day, but there were three more people crowding the pantry for some coffee—all equally startled when Innes confidently swayed in. There had been some quips and giggles about him not being an actual human being because they hardly saw him getting out of his office room besides to approach employee and discuss things with them. How his typical filling lunches would be delivered right to the very same room, how he would be having unbroken supply of continuously-refilled black coffee. Now he came to the pantry, let alone carrying a wrapped food and plastic cup like he was on a picnic.

“Go on, it’s alright,” Innes remarked as he dragged a chair and set his food on the counter. Vanessa noted his tone was actually _warm_ and rather endearing. “… I did scare people, huh,” he muttered to her when others just stared at them, not knowing what to do. “Then perhaps I should… be here often?”

It did not take long for the other three people to notice that she was following him, clutching similar food and drink in her hands. People began to look at her with that knowing expression, and she started to feel uneasy like her heart was sinking. She knew what it meant very well, like how such gesture did her back then when she was still in college. Either the prying stares or something about her being a prissy hypocrite because she spent some weekends with Forde, who got mistaken as her date, while, according to others, she tried so hard to appear chaste and holy when she told them she was hardly seeing anyone because she just wanted to study.

In reality, of course she wanted to study because she was eager to pay back Syrene and her mother for getting her to that good school. With her odd side jobs here and there including being a substitute teacher during her last semesters, she had too much in her hands to even think of that.

Yet somehow _I just want to study_ was interpreted as _I am not fun_. Forde was a modest foodie like herself, being anxious and equally tired as an art major. The duo became a trio when Kyle, an architecture major, joined them to form a league of super-tired, poor, and probably-lonely college trio. Of course they were not social outcasts, but it felt great to finally have a clique of nice friends who understood.

Vanessa peeked when Innes began unwrapping his burrito. She held her breath when the Frelian heir shoved a part of it into his mouth, eager to hear him commenting about it. After all it was a hole-in-wall kiosk near her station. Master Cakes did take baking into a different level, but taste aside, it was established in the metropolitan area along with Valni Tower. Although Vanessa did hear that expensive or exquisite did not always equal being good, Master Cakes’ location was enough to convince people that it was high-class, hygienic, and on top of its rivals.

(She thought she could hear a cackling laughter from the owner, a confident blond-haired woman called Lachesis, in the background. A sarcastic one though.)

“This was good,” Innes said like he was inspecting a ship. “I wonder why there are not many more like this around this place.”

 _Gentrification, duh—_ she pictured Kyle, half-annoyed, standing behind her and glared at Innes. “I recall there is a farmer’s market around here, Sir,” she responded, quietly adding _how do you know though, you are either inside all the time or only eating Michelin._

“Farmer’s market?” the Frelian heir asked. “If that is true, then it will be nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic?” now it was her who asked.

“Yes. When I was a little boy, my mother…” he mumbled, but wincing shortly after as if he was cursed to feel physical pain if he was to talk about it. “… Died.” That was the only thing he said to complete his sentence, as if realizing he had left the conversation hanging so that he definitely should do something to conclude it.

“… I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I don’t like being pitied. Later, Rider,” he said that despite the returning draconic aura and typical stern look and authoritative tone his baritone voice typically commanded. Innes finished his breakfast, throwing the wrapper and plastic cup into the bin and went to check his phone as he gruffly left in haste.

 ** _dutifulrider_** _Best burrito and horchata I’ve ever had in my entire life._

 ** _gracefulwing_** _You’ve had them your entire life **@dutifulrider** _

**_artsywarrior_ ** _That’s the kiosk near the station you take train from right V? **@dutifulrider**_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _Haha everything is either best or superb for Vanessa **@dutifulrider**_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _You should be grateful since it pertains you too dumb boys **@greenergrass @artsywarrior**_

Vanessa put her phone back into the pocket of her blazer, cherishing the welcoming gesture Innes gave her. She felt like she could believe Innes when he said it was good—sure, Innes was sharp-tongued, but she relieved in the chances that it should mean he did not mince words. She had informed Innes that today’s menu would be burrito and horchata, so if he did not like it, he would not be wasting his time riding the elevator to the pantry just so he could eat with her.

 _He wanted to eat with me?_ —Vanessa stop chewing. Suddenly she felt a bit anxious to confirm it. Fetching her phone again she eagerly went on Instagram to check on his account.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _First time having these. How could they be so tasty and I had no idea about it?!_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _Bruuuh. I told you. Fuck, I TRIED dragging your asshole ass out last weekend._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Eat shit again, Ephraim **@sharkwrestler** don’t ‘bro’ me, are you pining for my sister?!_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _I N N E E E S **@nidhogg**_

 ** _sharkwrestler_** _Lol K as you wish then Nabroleon Bronaparte my bro Bronnes McBroski **@nidhogg**_

Vanessa found herself chuckling a bit, but more than what looked like playful exchanges between close friends, she now could confirm that Innes did not just say that to be polite. She recalled how his eyes lighted with enthusiasm when she mentioned the farmer’s market, and how he appeared to try concealing his own excitement about it like he got busted. And he mentioned something about nostalgia. What if, for a change, she would just…

“Aren’t you daring?”

Vanessa looked up, finding an obnoxious smile on the same senior coworker who first filled her head with horror stories of Innes when she just started with the company. Now that Innes had left, suddenly the pantry felt suffocating even though it should not be the case considering his leave meant more space for everyone inside. “I don’t understand,” she replied in all honesty.

“I’ve always known you are a scheming little pet anyway, but that one seemed extra even for the boss,” the coworker snickered again, sliding closer to Vanessa with one hand in the pocket while the other was pointed at the burrito.

“... Did you just call me a _pet?_ ” she stood up. The cup containing warm horchata was still in her hand, and if these two obnoxious twats would push her harder—

“Awh, look at that face, now she is going to cry to Daddy Innes,” another senior coworker joined in, a cup of coffee was still fuming in his hand. Suddenly Vanessa realized they were cornering her. The fastest she could grab if a fight ensued would be her horchata, but the second fucktwat held a cup of hot, fresh out-of-coffee maker espresso, and besides causing public disturbances or an attempt to disturb security measures, Vanessa was not sure if it would be wise to lose her composure there.

“I am not crying,” she stated her words sharply, fiercely looking both men in the eyes. “And I have you know I hardly bother with what happened around here that much. So much for my power, huh?”

“Still have the gall to act prissy, don’t you?” one of them hissed. “Oooh no wonder, it’s all in her name, alright. Vanessa Rider. Only that she _rides_ Innes.”

“... Excuse me?”

“Yeah? Why would the boss bother so much with you if that was not the case anyway?” they kept going. “Who are you, really? How did you even get here? You really don’t think that Innes actually cares that much about you that he genuinely values you, do you, little Rider?”

“Because he hired me?” Vanessa tried to keep her voice steady. “If there is something wrong with my performance, please send your criticism and suggestion to Mr. Frelia himself. I do aim to improve since he knows best of the things I am tasked for.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Do you guys have anything valuable to say there? Because if you don’t, I need to get back _working_.”

“She is sulking.”

“I am not!”

“Oh crap, we broke her. We broke the perfect junior secretary slash assistant slash perfect equestrienne here. Now she’s gone hysterical.”

“I am NOT, excuse _you_ again—“

_They got me._

With that in her mind, Vanessa stopped talking.  

_They got me. They got me. What did Syrene say about this kind of crap again? How could I forget? Why am I so angry? ... Can I be angry about this? Is it about me or Innes? They got me. They got me—_

“Breaking news, the vicar’s daughter goes crazy for being exposed as a social-climber,” the two made an annoying high-five. “Why are bitches so angry when being outted as bitches? We are helping you to find the lost word you need since you seem to be so convinced that you actually matter here, or to him.”

Vanessa had it enough. Red-faced, she bolted out of the pantry, slamming her half-eaten burrito and half-emptied horchata into the bin at the lobby, causing a rather loud sound which she immediately regretted. _Hysterical. Crazy. Social-climber. ... A bitch,_ she mumbled the last hurtful word she got that morning. She could not believe it. So she had to do her job to prove herself worthy of the Tower, yet at the same time she actually should not, because it was either a fake camouflage or oh-so-threatening for the adult, older men in the room.

Vanessa checked her phone again, carefully reading Innes’ last Instagram post about the burrito and horchata she got him. Was it true? That Innes was simply entertaining her because she was amusing, or that she had her head in the clouds thinking her boss actually valued her as an employee—let alone enjoying the little informal interactions they had been having so far?

 _… Perhaps the modest burrito and horchata have no place in this high-end building,_ she thought again, embittered, _and neither do they in the elite stomach of the heir to the Frelian business empire throne._ _Oh God, did I overvalue myself? Did I actually anger Innes because of the farmer’s market topic?!_

Vanessa dragged herself into the bathroom, reading Innes’ post once again. She flushed the toilet before cowering herself as her little sobs started to break out. She was aware. She was too aware of her person or background to be there in the first place. She had nothing to offer the Frelias—who seemed to have half of the world in their palms—anything but a promised hard work and willingness to keep fighting.

She recalled the days when she asked Innes about marine engineering topics—how he would always be surprised as if nobody ever cared to ask him those, which were actually his specialties, something he spent four years and a half for, something he spent his first fresh graduate years on. How Innes would show her photos and clips, sometimes the field projects he did several years ago, and in between, his disdain for ocean bandits—as he put it—for putting traditional fishermen at risk. How tender Innes’ expression would be the more and more she engaged him in the topics he was interested in. How he accidentally blurted out that he actually had been a secret constant donor for the convention of scientists which one of the objectives was revitalizing the ocean and developing a safer, cheaper alternative fuel as well as noting how risky tanker ships could be. That would mean Lute’s research agency... and then he sheepishly confessed that he also secretly supported his own sister’s activism besides the agency.

And after her enthusiastic question-and-answer session—yes, including fluid dynamics, because, “Just like ground mechanics and structural engineering deal with earthquake prevention and impact-prediction when it concerns a building, a ship needs that just in case it is overloaded or, you know, sinking hazard,” he had told her. Innes then asked what she dealt with—education background-wise, and her thoughts regarding public-based investments or whatever it was to uplift local economy because he thought she knew all the domestic-related details he did not, and their vision could be synergic as local, traditional fishermen also made up micro economic element.

“I might be good at counting and strategizing a plan,” he once added, half-smirking, half-chuckling. Even if he just wanted to brag, it would be hard to deny that. “But you have the awareness I do not. There have been things I overlooked because I was too preoccupied by what I thought to be grand, without realizing that by doing so, by looking down on small details, the pyramid I’m building is _weak_. They said fortifications began from the simplest yet formidable designs at home. Remember when I got the data I needed to assess whether the cargo ship offered to us was worth it?”

She nodded.

“Then you asked me if the ship had been hindering locals and polluted the ocean people used for their livelihoods. If local fishermen could fill in for us while my malfunctioning ship is confined at the shipyard. That,” he said, casually lingering back to his seat. “... Was something I truly did not think of before.”

“But you are admirable too, Sir. I mean, you did everything alone. You spread the cost-and-loss calculation. You checked the ship’s actual condition with those numbers. I mean, you are—well, were—a marine engineer, but I still think it is something hard to ignore because not only you managed to identify the problem, you shot it straight.“

“Is it those skills or me that you admire?” he commented with a playful tone, laughing when she relented with a red face. “I am not admirable. I am just a workaholic night owl who overthinks.”

“But you saved people’s lives by being adamant about that ship’s expedience to sail. And you were right.”

“I happened to see it,” in a rare deferring manner, he responded. “It would be expected to do something about it since people’s lives were at risk.” But project after project, report after report made her see that this ‘rare deferring manner’ actually happened quite often, although subtly, and she started to be curious to get to know him more. There was a formidable Innes at work, then there was the Innes who could not care less if people acknowledged what he did before his face. Then there was also the Innes who did not hoard the credits all for himself despite his active participation.

Vanessa flushed again, glancing at her phone. It was past nine then, and regardless what she felt, the show must go on. She made up her mind not to tell Innes or Syrene as she haplessly dragged her steps out of the toilet cubicle she invaded for at least half an hour, to the annoyed expression of a woman who had been clinking her expensive classic black pumps because she took a long time inside.

“Sorry,” she muttered, weakly walking to where the washbasins were to wash her hand. Her reflection in the mirror did not make her feel better, and suddenly all the confidence and firmness she had been holding on to felt so fragile, too fragile that they were crumbling together like rubbles.

_I look like shit._

Her bag was still upstairs. She reflexively reached for the phone, nearly called Syrene to fetch it like how they’d usually ask each other for personal things at home—from lipsticks to the tampons they forgot bringing with them—but she cancelled it in the last minute.

_I’m a big girl now. I do not cry._

Vanessa looked at her reflection again. Long single pigtail. Gray vest over a lacey white blouse, black blazer and black pencil skirt with a pair of low-heeled Mary Jane shoes.

_I look like a stereotypical no-fun orthodox school girl._

She turned the tap on, collecting some water with her palms and gently washed her face to destroy footprints of sadness and tears trails.

_Fake prissy vicar’s daughter—_

Her phone vibrated.

“Why does it take long for you to return upstairs?”

It was Innes. Of course it was Innes—

“I got uh—preoccupied in the bathroom, Sir.”

There was a pause, and some seconds later, awkward reply. “… I see. Sorry for asking that. If you are back upstairs, there are things I’d like to discuss with you concerning today.”

_Like my worth being here, Innes?_

“Um,” she nearly lost her voice when she responded, “will it be in your room or my cubicle?”

Another pause.

_Why do I constantly expose my weakness and inability to handle things like an adult—like Syrene—_

“Does it matter, Rider?”

“Y-you are right. No, Sir, it does not. I’m—coming.”

_‘That’s what she said,’ they said._

Innes did not say anything else, so she ended the call right away.

* * *

**_nidhogg_ ** _  
Ephie._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Do not call me that—Bro._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Ah, right. Pardon me. Hello, asshole._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Right back at you, fucker._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Have you ever been to a farmer’s market?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… What?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
You traveled a lot._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Interesting, I thought you’d say I played a lot._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I’m asking a question here, don’t waste my time._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Well sorry then, Your Royal Highness._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Forgiven. Bye._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… Wait. Are you serious?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I am never not serious._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Ha! Right, right. Sure, yes, of course. What’s up?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
What will you typically find there?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Jesus fuck, you’ve never been to a market?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I HAVE, camel toe, but it was a long time ago. You know that._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… Ah right. My condolences, Innes._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Feh, let’s get back to being assholes to each other instead._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
K. Good morning, asshole._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Better. Thank you, Ephie._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Farmer’s market is farmer’s market, Innes. If anything, I think people these days often have temporary counters and kiosks besides the already-established ones people went to for breakfasts._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I eat at my desk._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
You ate your desk?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Yes. Happy now?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… Alright, you are seriously asking this time._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Finally, Ephraim noticed me._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… Stop that._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
So, you don’t need entrance tickets or anything like that, right?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Innes, to go to Heaven you can’t treat St. Peter like a bouncer. And no, you can’t bribe him either._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Hmmm. So basically you just come and stroll?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Yes. And by doing good deeds instead of being an ass. Weekends usually livelier because you have temporary if not seasonal kiosks. Like the kind of McDonald’s ice creams you only get to see on Sundays._

 ** _nidhogg_ ** _  
Sucks to be you, I get McDonald’s ice cream anytime I want._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Now hold on—you plan going there?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Why should I tell?_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
And without me, I suppose?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Most definitely._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… Don’t tell me it’s Eirika you wanna take with you._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Most probably._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Cheater. How nice it is to tell another person a place and then being excluded from the fun._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
You are very cute._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
I’m going to kill you these days._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
If I’m dead I can’t eat burritos with you._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… You actually wanna grab those burritos._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
And craft beer perhaps. Yes, and with you._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
Ohemgee, Innes noticed me too!_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Now YOU stop that._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
When?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I’ll contact you as soon as my schedule is clear and fixed._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _  
… This isn’t a coveted plan to murder me for getting close to Tana, right?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Most likely._

 ** _sharkwrestler_**  
_Alright fucker contact me when your schedule is fixed then._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_I will. Now, back to adulting business._

 ** _sharkwrestler_**  
_It sounds creepy when you are the one saying that._

Innes locked his phone again after concluding his conversation with Ephraim. His eyes darted on the desk calendar near his elbow, just right where his espresso was. Innes took out his own planner from the drawer, matching the desk calendar with whatever he already had scribbled there. He quietly made a room for a Saturday two weeks later, wrote ‘Asshole’ over it and took picture of the calendar.

 **_nidhogg  
_ ** _Two weeks from now, yay or nay?_

 ** _sharkwrestler_**  
_For a moment I thought you’re telling me I only have two weeks to live._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Yes._

 **_sharkwrestler  
_ ** _I can make it._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Thank you._

 **_sharkwrestler  
_ ** _Your next weekend is free though._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I usually leave a weekend empty just in case._

 ** _sharkwrestler_**  
_The android needs to charge his batteries huh._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_These fists need your face to charge too, Ephie :)_

A free weekend, huh? Now that Ephraim mentioned it…

_Knock knock._

Innes got up, yanking his doors open. His assistant stood before him. “You are finally here.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

Her voice sounded rather distant. Innes studied her face again, but there was not really changed-anything concerning Vanessa that his bare eyes could catch, so he got back to his desk, motioning for her to come closer. “I need to leave the Tower today, Rider,” he said, gathering some papers and two thin file folders containing bound paper stacks. “So I need you to be in charge of these while I’m gone.”

“You are leaving—Sir?”

_Please not now. Please—_

“Yes. I have a coffee break with Pablo Carcino and we are supposed to negotiate tariffs and all that _shit_ ,” it was unlikely to see him coarsely cuss like that, let alone with a supposed business partner. “He’s confident and dominating… in a bad way. I expect everything will stall so there is a chance that I might be held there until, I don’t know, afternoon.”

“… I see.”

“Well, I hope my kind of confidence and dominance are still decent,” he tried to lighten up, but somehow it failed because she did not respond and he knew he would not like this meeting. “We succeeded pushing back people from using that malfunctioning ship, but since we are short one cargo the delivery is stalling and I worry the products would get bad if stored at the harbor for too long. Sure, there would be iced containers. But still. And the fastest anticipation I can try affording is by using his cargo.”

“And you want me to do… what?”

“Now you are talking,” Innes tried again, but she still looked queasy. “Are you unwell?”

“Me? No, no—of course not. I’m ever steeled for any mission, Captain,” Vanessa forced laughter, making an awkward salute gesture. She was relieved because Innes only heard her voice and did not see her body language, because the Frelian heir was back to search for something in his drawer.

_And that’s—_

“Sir,” she nearly whispered, “that was a gun.”

“It _is_.”

“Sir—“

“Is this your first time of seeing a concealed carry?” he asked thoughtfully.

She nodded.

“First of all, I’m sorry to unnerve you,” he replied gently. “Second, I handle mine with care and make it sure I follow the codes perfectly. The safety lock is on, and I won’t draw this to be playful. I shoot well.”

She recalled Tana casually mentioned Innes did historical swordfighting and sharpshooting on Instagram. “I suppose,” she chuckled awkwardly again.

Innes pondered when she chuckled.

_Our world is so different._

“Well, nevertheless that said I will take Gilliam with me as well. And it’s just that I’m used to have these security precautions whenever I’m out,” he explained patiently. “Since Gilliam would not be around, I think I can trust you and Syrene to not let anyone off-list bother my father today,” he continued, handing a piece of paper to her, containing names and affiliations. “Be sure to have them leave some kind of identification though, as you take their messages. I’ve commissioned some analysts to research the broken ship for me—causes-effects including cost and all that including estimated repair it will need. I really wanted to do it myself, but you know these months have been so hectic.”

“How about…”

“I’m listening.”

“… You take Mr. Carcino to the harbor so you can get to the deck together? That way you will not be trapped with him for the whole day, and you shall get the numbers and data you need to know,” she continued, nearly smiled because of how enthusiastic his response was when she began talking.

“Hmmm,” Innes simply nodded, weighing in her opinion. “Go on.”

“Are these analysts independent or related to the Tower?”

“It was a team of four with different backgrounds. One of them was my colleague from The Society of Naval Architects and Marine Engineers, but we are never related outside the Society,” he contemplated. “So in general you can say they are mostly independent, yes. That structural analyst I just mentioned actually never worked for my father or me. What are you proposing?”

“So these reports you will be having today can serve as your second opinion. You are an engineer too, Mr. Frelia, it will be only normal if you want to witness everything first-hand,” Vanessa responded, her mood improved that she sounded almost as enthusiastic as he did. “And you already commissioned for the assessment, that is fair, right? The reports will be here shortly, I assume?”

“Most people seem to forget that I actually am,” there was a not-so-subtle bitterness in the voice when Innes responded. “And yes. That is what I almost forgot to tell you—I will need you to get them for me too, because if they use a courier chances are it will be stuck at the receptionist’s desk in the lobby, but if they come in person I will need you to engage them a bit regarding this report. I trust you to take notes about this. And…” he smirked as he added, “use your resource-friend like prior if necessary, Rider.”

“Mr. Frelia…” Vanessa muttered awkwardly, much to his delighted chuckles. “I can probably tape our conversation so you can see it for yourself, Sir. Or maybe if your CCTV covers it.”

“Well, well, helpful and creative, aren’t you?” Innes chuckled again. “If you keep covering me like this, Rider, you will make me feel very pampered and very protected like a mob boss. I can get lazy.”

“M-mob boss? I never—never once compared you to one!”

“Does that mean you ever compared me to… someone else?” Innes replied in subtle meaningful manner. He cussed in silence when his watch told him it was already a quarter to ten. “Regardless, I thank you for your suggestions. Haha, what can I do without you?”

_That’s—_

“Many things, Sir,” she replied, half sad, half bitter. “Like meeting Mr. Carcino.”

“Yes. But I want to make sure everything is fine and under control before I leave,” Innes said, grabbing the coat he had draped over his chair. “And that includes my assistant’s well-being.”

“I uh—thank you for being attentive about me.”

_So she still won’t tell?_

“Alright, I’m leaving. So to recap, I need you to answer to the calls addressed to me, and with your sister to reject unauthorized people or uninvited people from seeing my father. He has his doctor appointment for a general routine check-up at one too. And don’t forget the analysts, Rider. Meanwhile, let me repeat so we are on the same page—you suggest I take Dickhead—Pablo—to the harbor and the shipyard for my misfortunate ship, and with it I can also assess whether his cargo would be worth the try or not, all the while having fun with the numbers. Is that what you mean?”

She nodded earnestly. “I suppose if you witness the malfunctions first-hand not only you’ll get a better picture about it, but also a better _bargaining_ picture, Sir. I will notify you when I get to read those reports so that he will not press you to sign anything you are unsure of. It will be concise.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Mister… Frelia…?”

“Yes, that’s my female assistant, alright,” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Vane—Rider, you just saved me from unnecessary tangent, boring-as- _fuck_ negotiations with a man more repulsive than a grilled shoe. If professionalism did not confine me like a tamed dragon I would have wrestled that cretin myself for kicking out local fishermen and using tiger nest as well as explosives in the ocean. … Well, if I got a great deal, I’ll make sure your share will be included in the spoils of war we are aiming.”

“Somewhere in this world perhaps some people do eat grilled shoe, Mr. Frelia,” she laughed.

“Then let me know if you have an alternative for that too,” he smirked. “Now hold the castle for me.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Vanessa followed Innes as her boss rushed to grab a sturdy backpack, loading a journal into it and finally reaching for a pair of sunglasses from his drawer. He had tucked the gun safely under his coat, and she left pondering if that gun ever needed to be fired so far.

And then she prayed it did not. More so for him to not be bothered with whatever the stunt Pablo Carcino tried to pull on him. Judging from how cautious Innes was, she wondered if this was not the first time the Frelias had to deal with Carcino’s unsavory, aggressive business practices.

With all the ammunitions and tasks in her hand, she retreated to her cubicle, digging out some coral-colored lipstick and began to powder her face. Innes was decent for not pointing out at anything considering there was a rather significant change if not for the watered face, but as much as she hated the idea that she had to be _pretty_ to be considered professional, she would be fully representing him that day, and possibly meeting people he was supposed to receive. She grimaced at her tussled messy flocks, and was nearly done retying her pigtail when Syrene’s graceful figure approached her.

“Innes left?” she asked.

Vanessa nodded, briefing Syrene what Innes entrusted to her regarding barring people without appointment to get to his father. “I’ll copy his note so you have your own list. This way we can coordinate,” she suggested. “I can imagine some people are persistent enough that Innes had to create this list. Then there is a chance they can tell different things to you and me to get in.”

“V,” Syrene patted her gently, “I am so proud of you. You really are professional.”

Somehow Vanessa nearly choked hearing that. Just about an hour and half ago, insecure senior male coworkers disrespectfully grilled her for being nothing but an… office whore. _The irony,_ her lips pursed tightly, considering the closest bonding time she had with Innes so far was just morning pastries time.

“You need help with that?” Syrene gestured to her pigtail.

“N-no, I-I’m alright,” Vanessa mumbled. Just when she thought she had everything under control, Syrene’s unchanging tender sisterly gesture almost broke her. The love and appreciation she craved for after getting mutilated by hyenas—“I don’t—think you should do that, Sy.”

“Why?” the older sister startled. “Are you mad at me, V?”

“N-no. It’s just…”

Syrene’s eyes widened when Vanessa rested her head on her shoulder. “V,” she whispered.

“Y-yes?” Vanessa lifted her head, knowing well that she was only an inch to shedding tears again.

“We are colleagues now, but I’m still your sister,” Syrene clasped the younger woman’s shoulders. “And it will not change just because we work here. Come on. The Big Boss is feeling under the wind so my day has been rather slow, and I kind of miss doing your hair like the old days.”

“Innes asked you to remind him of his hospital check-up by one,” Vanessa responded. “Is he alright?”

“I’ll drive him myself if necessary,” Syrene smirked. “Oh, yeah. It’s just his blood pressure he needs to keep under control. And a migraine. The younger Frelia is actually very caring and attentive, isn’t he?”

“I suppose… that is why he bars people from disturbing his father,” Vanessa stared at the list.

“Done now,” Syrene gave her younger sister a light tap on the back of her head. “You know what, if you got some ribbon there it would look very cute.”

“I’m here to be professional,” Vanessa’s face reddened.

“You can’t kill if you’re not cute,” Syrene teased, “although my sister is cute regardless. But really, what prompted this, Vanessa Titania Rider? Does it bother you that we are in this together?”

“I can never hate you,” Vanessa replied, “but I thought I’m just—uninteresting.”

“What?”

“You know, like—not supposed to be here. At least unlike you.”

“What are you talking about?” Syrene shook her head again. “Even the Big Boss said Innes looked more relaxed and tempered ever since you showed up. Sounds like you’ve been working hard.”

“Well, true that… I think?”

“I think?” Syrene repeated. “And look what we have here. Look at these piles Innes delegated to you, Sis. That only meant you have earned everything you got from this place, don’t you think so, V? You told me yourself Innes had that draconic aura about him and pretty much ran his team like a war general. Do you think having him leaving the fortress to you so he can fight head-on is trivial?”

“I…”

“Vanessa,” Syrene softened her tone, “what I just told you is not about Innes, but you. My point is, please don’t downplay your achievements and efforts too. You may think that this happened simply because you are his assistant, but consider this—that it is because you are worthy?”

“I—will _try_ thinking that way, I guess,” Vanessa responded softly.

“That’s my girl, alright. Now defeat those papers, V.” Syrene smiled, returning to her station.

 _That’s my girl,_ she thought she caught Innes saying something similar before he went out. Vanessa glanced at the direction where Syrene’s desk was, and her older sister caught her gaze, giving the reassuring smile she much needed that day. Vanessa nodded, determination returned to her firm, twinkling eyes as she began to take the first paper out of the pile Innes left for her and began working. She did his papers like how a college student diligently summarizing literary studies to compile into a report—that was until a phone call startled her.

 _It begins,_ she thought. Cold sweat dropped from the nape of her neck when she realized the test had just begun. Inhaling—and counting to four until she exhaled, Vanessa braced herself and took the call. “Hello, Valni Tower. This is Vanessa Rider answering for Mr. Innes Frelia, can I help you?”

“Bonjour!”

 _Crap,_ Vanessa nearly knocked down her bag as she started opening Google Translate and one of the online grammar course pages she had bookmarked because of her frequent visit to the website in panic.

“Madame Rider, l’assistante, true? I am L’Arachel of the Raustens.”

“The versatile heiress to Rausten Enterprise herself, why, yes, good morning!”

“Versatile? Ah, oui, versatile. Innes is?”

“Not here, Ma’am,” she responded, “Mr. Frelia is preoccupied possibly until this afternoon, can I take your message on behalf of him so that he can get back to you once he is done?”

“Oh, alright, très bien. Tout d'abord…” L’Arachel began dictating and Vanessa pressed REC on the phone, trying to keep her calm while attentively listening to L’Arachel, word per word. “… Innes and I, with the gracious presence of my uncle, crafted a trade agreement. We are thinking of getting… eh, le fruits de mer—“

“Fruits… in the ocean?”

“What? Mais non! Sea meals. No no, food. Sea… food, yes!”

“Ah, yes, yes. Seafood, sea products?”

“Yes, yes! And Rausten is ready to sell the… umm… le carburant for Monsieur Frelia’s cargo—“

“Pardon, can you please spell that, Ma’am?”

“Certainement! C, A…” Vanessa quickly filled in the translation column on Google as the Rausten heiress recited the letters for her. “… Since our operation area the Melkaen Coast is undergoing uh… cleaning. Revitaminization—”

“You mean—revitalization perhaps, Ma’am?”

“Oooh, oui! You are helpful, Madame Rider!” there was a cheery response from the other side of the phone, and Vanessa smiled genuinely when hearing that. The Rausten heiress might be eccentric, but she was a delightful person, no wonder Innes seemed to treat her very courteously. “Melkane is full of toxic waste and other umm… merde, ocean waste! A very irresponsible company seemed to think it was a public toilet. My uncle and Innes agreed to work together for the revitami… _REVITALIZATION_ , yes. Ah quelle l’homme charmant, that Innes, because we three agreed that if it kept happening, the work would be slow, and fishes? Die. Et puis d'abord, il a fallu le terminer so I need him soon with my uncle.”

“T-that means,” Vanessa glared at Google, “you want to schedule a tête-à-tête with Mr. Frelia because he had a plan for marine revitalization with your uncle and you, and that since your operation area was um… under… eh, revitalization, you want to buy the marine products you need in exchange of… fuel?”

“Oui, tête-à-tête! Vraiment, you are most helpful,” the charming heiress responded enthusiastically. “Thank you, sweetheart! And do inform me when Innes is back, yes?”

“Certainly, Ma’am. Have a great day,” Vanessa put the phone back, reclaiming half of her soul she thought lost the moment L’Arachel started speaking rapid French to her. Vanessa weighed in whether Innes was tightly preoccupied at this moment, but then she made a decision and grabbed her phone.

 ** _nidhogg_** _The weather is pretty friendly today._

Vanessa looked at Innes’ latest Instagram post, which had him standing aboard a ship. She recognized the coat he had with him when he left. But he also had a pair of sunglasses, and suddenly she wanted to burst out laughing remembering when he compared himself to a mob boss.

 **_tantdelumiere_ ** _Ooo Innes, you are looking very handsome, mon cher!! **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _That is very kind of you, dear **@tantdelumiere**_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _Mob boss mob boss mob boss **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _I helped the sharks you oppressed, bitter melon **@sharkwrestler**_

The reply came in just now. So Vanessa made up her mind.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Mr. Frelia, Sir. Please do not feel pressured to reply ASAP; Mme. Rausten just called, mentioning about selling fuel for your ships in exchange of a good seafood deal you produced because her Melkaen Coast is under revitaminization._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Re… vitaminization?_

 _Aaaahhh_ —Vanessa cussed in silence, quickly tapped her phone again. She thought she could leave notes for him like that, but now that she used L’Arachel’s word, the Frelian heir was _distracted_ instead.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Revitalization, Sir, my apologies. She mentioned about wanting to get you and her uncle on one table because supposedly you used to draft a plan together. And then, skip._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Skip?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Because she spoke French and then I died, Sir._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
…_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
_ _:) :) :) :)_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
I am truly sorry!! I recorded it for you_

Sent prematurely.

 **_nidhogg  
_ ** _… You are amusing._

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Amusing? Uh—I assure you I’m professional, Sir—anyway, I wonder if—if you could probably bargain for a cheaper price with her so your cargo can set sail better since you will be short one ship and uh—since you aided her to revitalize her area of operation part of the ocean and uh, she gets the fresh products she wants? Then the profit can be used for… revitalizing the ocean and empowering local fishermen just like what you are passionate about :)  Oh my God Mr. Frelia I’m so sorry please believe me I tried my best._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I believe you._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
S-Sir?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
_ _À plus tard, ma poupée._

Google Translate. Google Translate. Google Translate Google Translate. Google T—

“D-… doll?” Vanessa literally fell off her chair again. _Amusing doll. So… not worthy?_

“So much for professionalism,” a voice dissed her when it went past by her. Vanessa picked up herself from the floor, her eyes flashed when she recognized the insolent face. One of the guys in the pantry. Lucky for her—or rather, for _him_ —the phone in her cubicle rang again, so she ignored him to take it.

“Vanessa Rider, today especially answering for Mr. Innes Frelia. Can I help you?” her brows knitted as she listened to person on the other side speaking. “Now? Alright—no, Mr. Frelia is still out. He did entrust me to get what is necessary for him. I’m coming down. Thank you.” With the call concluded, she put back her blazer, tidied her cubicle a bit before heading down with all her notes and phone.

The obnoxious man was tailing her. “Be careful.”

“Thank you,” Vanessa responded curtly without looking at him.

“Oh no. Be careful to not fall out of favor now that the boss is not around.”

 _This fucker—_ “Likewise, since I’ve been working and you’ve been… _dicking_.”

“You are not an engineer or researcher, are you?”

“No,” she wondered why it even mattered now. As if female scientists were treated with respect by insecure megalomaniac men like that.

“Then why are you coming down to meet the marine analyst?”

 _What?_ “Because Mr. Frelia asked me?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“Really?” the man kept pestering. “What do you know about shipbuilding? I don’t think you can recite notable fluid dynamics theories in the last ten years or named at least one scientist in the field.”

“I tell you what,” it took nearly all of her to not just kick the man in the groin—yes, groin, and she meant it. “Let’s get a phone to tell Mr. Frelia that you actually want to be there with the analyst—no, that despite everything you said, you actually _want_ my job.”

“How do I know he will stop favoring you?”

“Oh you won’t. In the similar weird manner that apparently, for insecure pathetic _little manchild_ like you any woman who lands something higher must be a threat for things you probably do not _deserve_ in the first place. You know, considering you spend your time sulking.” _Don’t give in—don’t give in—_

_Ring, ring._

“Do not bring gender politics into this.”

“You can start first by seeing me as a human being and your equal second. And third, your colleague.”

_Ring, ring, ring._

“Miss Rider?”

“I’m coming,” Vanessa mouthed at the phone.

_“WHORE.”_

There was fog in her eyes as Vanessa raced her heels to catch up with the elevator.

* * *

 

“You see, this is the route my ships usually take. And I believe, shorter than your typical routes,” Pablo clicked a button before turning his laptop to face Innes and Gilliam. Innes glanced at the map. Four of them—one extra person being Pablo’s assistant—docked at a nice BBQ restaurant near the harbor, which occupied the same location as one of the nearby beautiful resorts. Not long after a waiter brought a tempting freshly-grilled T-bone steak to the table, and began setting the guests’ plates.

“Really? I see,” Innes nodded politely. He had gone to the harbor, with Pablo in tow as Vanessa suggested him. And he purposefully took his time there. Besides inspecting parts and interviewing people, including those working on board for Valni Tower, he also had too much fun asking a thing or three about the ship’s vital data. He even asked detailed things such as buoyancy, if anyone still kept the original blueprint and whether the ship showed some deterioration during its last ten voyages and how heavy the total cargo was. Whether there was leak down there—be it through bumping hazard or uncontained oil and fuel waste… Innes almost, almost enjoyed everything as they made him feel like a field marine engineer again until Pablo kindly suggested they should have lunch together as a sign of friendship and goodwill.

Innes was also a business person. More importantly, he was no fool—he could guess the subtext Pablo aimed to establish—like a sealed pre-deal based on mutual understanding, akin to giving words before a formal contract was crafted. And the undertone would be that he, on behalf of Valni Tower, implied a guaranteed negotiation about hiring Pablo’s ship in the business. Furthermore it would mean that Frelia had accepted their terms and conditions.

At the same time he did not have any strong response to turn the invitation down. It would be some more journey to get back to town, and he thought, at least with a full stomach he could think clearly to duel Pablo’s will at their negotiation table. Things like this made Innes was more than vehement to get to trade agreement tables himself—instead of risking his father’s health and the possibility of him giving in under pressure. _You are not the only stubborn person here,_ Innes glanced at Pablo.

“You do not need to be so guarded, Innes. Our company also employs credible staff under the flag,” Pablo grinned again. “Just give me the word. I know Frelia is more than stable at the moment. Your stock maintained its value consecutively in the past five years, even during recession…”

Innes let Pablo rambling as he paid attention to everything he said. _True,_ he contemplated. Even if he sold a condominium and one of his warehouses to cover the down payment in case of _buying_ the ship, he could still make a profit. _But exactly,_ he listened again, could not resist a smile as he did so. A smile Pablo mistook as a green light, while to him, a _conclusion._ Frelia was _not_ in a desperate position to procure a ship—regardless of the method. If the stranded goods got destroyed, he could still try salvaging the damage without having to liquefy an asset. The reason why he was eager to procure a reliable means of transportation was to mind the customers and potential buyers, as well as a simple sign of respect for the ocean he had loved so much and not wanting to waste local fishermen’s efforts. “Very interesting, indeed,” Innes simply sipped his red wine. “I wonder still, how could you sail with shorter route like this? Because frankly, based on my experience working for the Navy usually ships that do this are either a trespasser or wanting to evade paying wages or the UNCLOS.”

“I don’t get what you mean, Innes.”

“Well, you see, by making detours on coasts where it should be illegal to conduct fishing or trading without contacting the country first as the waters belonged in the 12-kilometer territorial lines. In other words, you are sapping into a sovereign ocean, and usually ships do that by changing flags by using the intended country’s flag to bypass their coastguards. Which is illegal,” Innes nailed Pablo with his eyes, “and I want no part doing that. Or you can do so as well by playing safer, like, getting into the 200-kilometer exclusive economic zone without further contract with the sovereign country. Also illegal.”

“You learned that in business school?”

“You _did not_ learn that as a marine businessman?” Innes’ infamous tongue struck again. “Easy there, Pablo. We want to do business, not causing international spark or diplomatic crisis, don’t we?” he made a retreating manner to give Pablo a vague sense of acquiescence. “Are there any people in charge regarding your ships or sailing routes I can talk to?”

“Eh—no, because—“

“No?”

“They are new. I’d be glad to only send a caliber person to speak with you, see, considering your _legendary_ keen eyes,” Pablo retained his composure.

“Oh please, don’t _insult_ me like that,” Innes simply chuckled. “I am genuinely interested, Pablo. You aspire to take Carcino to the next level, and with new business pursuits I’m thinking you would love to find people who are equally interested in growing with you. So how come you have no permanent, if not full-time vital crews such as engineers, mechanics, and analysts working for your shipyard?”

“T-that’s—”

“You employ them on contract-basis?” he kept going, his voice calm and his body language indifferent.

“Y-yeah. You know, job-hoppers and _shit_ ,” Pablo laughed awkwardly, and Innes noticed how the man he dubbed as a cretin to Vanessa took big sips of the red wine.

“Have you tried contacting the Marine Society?” Innes still responded courteously. “I _am_ one.”

“You are—what?”

Innes chuckled, finishing the last steak cut he put on his plate. “Do you really think I come here to play or miserably unprepared just to have your _ass_ rolling the dice all the time, Pablo?”

“You little—” in a burst of anger, Pablo lunged and Gilliam glared at him before doing the same.

“Easy, Gilliam. Pablo, you know I _never_ miss,” Innes dropped his tone, shifting his body language and demeanor. “Whichever way you choose to interpret that, up to you.”

“If this is a threat then I shall press charge, Frelia—or contact the authorities!”

“Ouch, you like it elegant,” Innes feigned squealing. “Then why didn’t you contact the Marine Society? They have resources you can use, including hungry young engineers needing to pay their student loans.”

“I can’t possibly let you run my house, can I?” Pablo snickered.

“Nonsense, _bastard_ ,” Innes smiled menacingly at him, “you have _fuck-none_ idea it is my clique, neither you about me being an engineer before you heard these from _me_. You outsourced your workforce, am I not correct?” he put down his cutleries and began reaching for the napkin. “And probably keep damaging the ocean on other parts of the world too as we speak. Some people do think it is fine as long as it happens to the less-privileged ones, especially smaller, weaker nations desperate for investors. My concerns are legit. If you hardly have long-time permanent employees even for the most vital position—sounds like you evade paying them full-time and deny their insurance benefits. So with pleasure, please, do bring it on so _I_ can press charges.”

“Some engineer you are,” Pablo grimaced.

“You forgot the MIB. My father was wise steering me there for the master’s since I can understand assholes like you now,” Innes merely cocked an eyebrow. “And perhaps this is new to you, but one person can think of many things at the same time as they are interested in various things, you know?”

“Your goods will rot at the harbor,” Pablo hissed. “I don’t even care what you think of me, Frelia, but I know you love them too much to foolishly ignore that.”

“Even if you burned them, I’d just need to compensate the losses and paid the fishermen. I can set sail again once my unfortunate ship is repaired,” Innes replied, wiping his lips with the napkin he just took. “Anyway, arson is a crime, just in case you already forgot that.”

“And you think your investors will let that slide?”

Innes chuckled. No, he _snickered._ “Carcino Corporation is younger than Frelia,” he spoke. “With a good PR and communication director, I am optimistic we will be back at our feet again. We have never cheated anyone, and again my concerns are legit. My investors sulked exactly because I forbade that ship from sailing. Do you want to press charge against us now, Pablo? But then again, WHAT for?”

“You—“

_Know your place, fucktwat._

“So you see, I have environmental standard fulfilled, safety checks guarded. You were an inch close to punch me—even if I have to put you on a choke hold, self-defense motivation obtained,” Innes grinned menacingly again, “and you best not think I don’t have the muscles for you. So sue us, Pablo. Do it so I can make you beg on the street to give you the treatment _you_ have been giving others so far.”

“… Just say you are not interested there, little prince,” Pablo spat.

“As if men like you can find a no in all the noes,” Innes struck again. “I’m not that foolish to not be aware that you need other people in this world. Who am I trading with if not with you?—Well, I have Madame Rausten now thanks to my brilliant assistant, however,” he smiled faintly when he said that—“so what I’m saying is this. There will still be an agreement between us in the near future.”

“Y-You should stop scaring me like that,” Pablo forced a chuckle.

“However, in an equal term, one that is mutually understandable. Not like this!” Innes concluded sharply, finishing his wine as he rose from the seat he occupied, quickly followed by Gilliam. “Be grateful I did not even say _my_ term. Think twice before trying to trap me, Pablo. Next time it won’t cost only your dignity.”

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Mr. Frelia, the reports came. They did confirm your calculation, um… hold on, picture follows! Ahhh I’m so relieved! They even used the same formula you used. I take that this means your ship can be saved? Oh gosh, so that means it can sail again! It will need time to recover, but still... oh, and perhaps you can cut down the fuel it carries if you apply some efficiency on the—uh, sorry, I don’t really know how to word it but like… if you replace the machine so you can put more loads while reducing the overheating hazard by having a tanker boat fuel it on the shore instead of having it carry all the_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _—I hit character limit, Sir, also—cargo ventilation, sweat—um, I’ll ask her again._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
And do you have available… smaller ships to replace this ship while it’s being fixed? Or you can pay local fishermen and their modest boats!! And you’ll need gas instead of fuel! With simpler Diesel machine!_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Sorry for these barraging messages Mr. Frelia, I was thinking of these things when the analyst talked of ships and I was just trying to process what I’m told. I hope Mr. Carcino does not give you a hard time._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
… P-please correct me if I got everything wrong though._

 _Such a guardian angel who keeps me safe_ _in the battlefield,_ a tender smile gradually formed on the Frelian heir’s lips as he scrolled down to read her messages. She then bombarded with photos of the reports, and concluding sentences she purposefully took to show him that he and his analysts were actually on the same page. But that aside, Innes contemplated something else…

_So I am not getting dull actually._

He had been pondering about it for a while now—with Vanessa around helping him here and there, he started to feel so… light. Yet at the same time it also worried him that she seemed to always find gaps he overlooked. Her professionalism, dedication, hard work—and honesty, to add to those—made him questioned himself, and whether he had messed up a lot that she had to constantly clean his trash. But as he began trusting her, he gradually examined everything. Although his confidence was still there, he found his ego tempered when facing her, and instead of feeling insecure, in a way he felt _liberated._

Then it dawned on him that he might have been trying to carry the weight of the world on his back alone for so long, and he only realized these all because now he had the time and opportunity to stop and reflect as a spectator. True, she tried to obtain the targets, but he was still the one who set them. She tried her best to execute the plans, but he was the one who strategized them.

 _We make a good team,_ Innes thought again, feeling surprised at how natural the word _we_ felt for him. As he began appreciating all the works she did for him, he started to keep himself in check. When those two became synergic with each other, he gradually accepted that there was perfection in imperfection itself, and he was only human who was neither superior nor inferior compared to her.

 **_nidhogg  
_ ** _Actually, I just finished my meeting here. I want to talk to you, dear V_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
*directly *fast. Autocorrect is weird, huh?_

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_You seem to be happy, Sir?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
I am._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Hehe, why am I picturing you typing these all smiling?_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
You pictured me in your mind?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Mr. Frelia …………._

 ** _nidhogg_**  
_Can you run to Master Cakes and get some… I don’t know, cakes perhaps, for everyone?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Everyone?_

 **_nidhogg  
_ ** _Yes._

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_The entire floor we occupy? :O_

 **_nidhogg  
_ ** _No. The entire tower._

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _Sounds like you landed a good deal, my Captain :)_

 _Copain?_ —Innes’ eyes widened when reading her reply. _Oh, captain. I thought—friend. … Boyfriend._

That day seemed to be full of typos and misunderstandings.

* * *

 

Vanessa clicked her tongue. She really had it enough for the day—even the smartest, most motivated, most patient women had had their limit and breaking point too. She did meet with the analyst Innes had commissioned for the ship reports, with the obnoxious senior male coworker tailing her. Of course he would want to make it known that he was very smart, very bright, all the while subjected himself to the holy war of preventing her to reap all the spotlight for herself. Because apparently she was fake. That she was the emotional angry bitch who could hide behind Innes’ back, and offered sexual gratification to get what she wanted. After all, apparently that was how women climbed the career ladder. And since she was not a STEM major, she would be very stupid, very inappropriate for all the big things and he would be saving Innes’ time to do all these observations so that he stopped investing on her.

Sure, that was a really bitter thought to harbor, but for the love of anything holy Vanessa had no other reason why Caellach Tigris would be lingering around and posed himself like he was a very important person in the Tower deserving to be noted and acknowledged.

The analyst was a beautiful green-eyed blond woman who welcomed her with nothing but a courteous smile and a sealed long envelope containing the report Innes had commissioned her team. After some introduction, it did not take long for the scientist, Selena Fluorspar, to get to the point. She informed Vanessa that she was a structural engineer, with strong background in ground mechanics and experiences in assessing damages, usually those caused by natural disasters. Part of her trainings and works related to applied engineering landed her a position at the Marine Society, which was how she got to know Innes despite only formally and not in close-knit friendly basis with him. At that time, while Innes labored himself in fluid dynamics and marine engineering structures, Selena had been working with a team which studied natural disasters with long-lasting impacts where both the water and the ground were equally devastating—typically flooding, tsunami, or earthquakes. Selena was educated, smart, and had the graceful bearing about her which commanded respect. In a way, Vanessa felt like she just met a more work-oriented and more serious Syrene, and the lady scientist was more than willing to communicate.

“Are you hopeful that this ship might be able to sail again?” Vanessa looked at her.

“If all he wants is just so this ship can sail back and forth, it will be too pessimistic to say no,” the scientist responded, sipping the tea Vanessa brewed for her. “But if it is old, then I believe he will agree it needs to retire. How old is the ship again? When the damages are mended and the machines are cleaned and renewed, he should get it tested for sailing simulation to see if it can float on water with perfect balance and whether the cofferdam is fixed so nothing will leak into the machinery. I think you can suggest him that first, because I suspect something started there."

“Will it be riskier if he deploys high-speed smaller ship instead?”

“I think it mostly depends on what kind of ocean his ships sail,” Selena thought a bit, “but possible.”

“What if we trust local fishermen to deliver?”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me, honestly,” Selena responded, making Vanessa almost felt like in cloud nine for being appreciated by an expert. “Their ships may appear outdated, but they made up among, if not, the toughest sailors I know because they have the experience sailing rough terrains and are mostly adept at their surroundings like reading the weather and current flow. You know, I really like that you brought it up because see, ivory tower problem—we often sideline common people just because they do not sound or appear smart. You really should discuss that with Innes, especially if he wants to go local.”

“You know cofferdam right, Vanessa?” Caellach lingered closer, with condescending tone as if speaking to a child. Now Vanessa understood why Syrene was peeved with male colleagues who easily called their female counterparts with nicknames or given names. “It is this enclosure you built to create a dry space you need if you are working wet. Enclosure is like, a big space.”

Vanessa tried ignoring him by concentrating to the scientist.

“Sorry, Doc. She is a no-STEM girl.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened when Selena rolled her eyes at him, but the lady scientist did not say anything to acknowledge his presence and went on instead. “Still, it is not my ship, so Innes must know about it better than me,” she sipped her tea again. “This is just a matter of tracing the ship’s anatomy. If not because of the cofferdam, the ship may lose its balance when buoying then bumps into something because of the overloading stowage. Or in this softer Titanic scenario, the collision may tear deeper that either the stowage begins to lightly flood or that there is a fracture which messes up with the cofferdam, causing substances leaked into the machinery. The latter is more threatening, if you ask my opinion, since it is hard to tell whether something is leaking while you are sailing, and what substance it may be. The worst-case scenario would be the machine dies, making the ship strand at the middle of nowhere in the ocean. Or the corrupted machine starts to affect other machines, creating a falling house of cards where important life-preserving components may be at risk.”

“I will make sure to tell him that,” Vanessa rapidly scribbled a note while her phone was recording. “He is at the harbor for direct inspection as we speak. Thank you again, Doctor Fluorspar.”

“Alright, that eases me,” the scientist smiled again. “I was about to ask you, because why did he even need us to relay these? He should know already. Is this for his lawyers or something? Because you know the ship would not get to claim the insurance he aimed for if the damage was most likely due to personal carelessness and mistreatment.”

“He is trying to stop greedy investors from forcing it to brave the ocean,” Vanessa replied. “When this matter was first brought up he was already certain the crews would be at risk.”

“Then you can tell him he is right,” the scientist said. “And oh, before I forget—cargo ventilation… sweat… this often happened when I rode along to inspect disaster-affected areas or wrecked ships with the Marine Society. Apparently it also makes one of the most common causes of a damaged cargo. There is a more detailed buoyancy calculation for projection for that damaged ship with and without its loads, including an estimation to aim post-revitalization, again with and without its loads. If Innes has the initial data when the ship is in its prime condition, he can do a little comparison study with them to assess if repairing is worth it. And I guess, being mindful of the fuel consumption. If he hears these all directly, I’m sure he will understand what to do, including fuel efficiency. After all, the initial notes he sent containing his early calculation is actually the same with what we used for the ship. Did the ship use fuel carrier? I’m afraid if it carried everything, it would be exposed to a greater risk especially if the machine was pretty old and there were fractures and collisions we did not know. Including the leaks.”

“I got it,” Vanessa quickly paused her recording, and quickly tapped the direct message feature. “So basically Mr. Frelia had everything done halfway by the time he commissioned your team?”

“Exactly,” Selena flicked her fingers. “He will need field data to complete his theory, but him still being this sharp alone is impressive considering all he got was probably observation accounts.”

“Yes, he was busy asking for graphs to back him up,” Vanessa replied. “If you don’t mind repeating, Doctor Fluorspar, so I can check if I missed anything…”

“Sure, although you seem to be a quick-learner to me so far,” the scientist smiled.

“I can imagine without ventilation it will be hard to pump out the water,” Caellach enlightened the ladies with his smartness again although he was never invited into the conversation.

“Caellach, _please_ ,” Vanessa muttered under her breath.

This time the scientist did not merely roll her eyes. She put her pen down, locking Caellach in his eyes in such manner that even the loudest would grow quiet out of shame, akin to shutting up a big high school bully just with a simple eye stare. “May I ask, Sir, are you Mr. Frelia’s assistant?”

Vanessa could see the light in Caellach’s eyes died when the scientist’s cold tone tore his soul in two. _Amazing,_ she thought again, amazing how easy it was to poke a man’s ego like that. “I uh, no,” his words trailed, “I’m a no coffee-maker girl like she is.”

“That is relieving, considering you hardly got anything right if not repeating what she said so far,” Selena went on with the massacre. “First of all, the cofferdam in naval architecture is more about the insular place in certain areas to prevent substances from leaking into the machinery. And usually, in marine engineering they say sweats for moistures and this ventilation system is meant to help anticipating condensations, which normally occurs when there is a significant weather and climate difference due to sailing from a colder hemisphere to a tropical area. It is not similar to the system which tries salvaging the hull in case of flooding or early Titanic scenario.”

Caellach’s face lost its color.

“With these technical terms unknown to you—and yet you are here inviting yourself with us, may I have an idea what is it that you are actually doing, especially in regards of this conversation where it may benefit Mr. Frelia?” Selena took off her glasses as she seriously nailed Caellach’s coffin.

“Eh—no, I mean—“

“Then I am sure your insights will be much useful somewhere else,” Selena hammered the last nail as her lips parted into a beautiful smile, “probably with Mr. Frelia himself.”

“Fuck no—I mean, I don’t think so.”

“I am not sure if we will agree on that,” Selena pressed, “considering usually men are only most willing to listen to other men. I am sure Mr. Frelia would _love_ to hear more from you about _ships_.” Caellach’s face cringed, and Vanessa nearly could not resist laughter when he disgracefully excused himself. Sharing Vanessa’s delight of spanking Caellach, Selena winked. “Now you make sure Innes heard that because really, it’s time for men to stop assuming that anyone titled a doctor must be also a man.”

 

Vanessa did not take long to make a short summarization for Innes, including informing him that she had everything recorded. She thought she would save the juiciest part for later when she got to be alone with him, because as cliché as it sounded, “my mama taught me better than that” had been a code she held on to. Caellach would make an ass out of himself without her help, and she decided she did not need to step on his level just for the sake of personal revenge.

It did not mean that she would not stand up for herself, though—albeit hard. Regardless how much Innes actually favored her or how much her actual piling workload was, she was still a junior employee, and it put her at stake although her anger was valid.

Vanessa had been grinning so much because not only the reports concluded that the ship was not so unsalvageable, but also it served as a testimony that Innes did make a wise decision for barring it to sail. And she imagined Innes would be in a good mood to work at the field again, and even if not possible, to relish his days as a marine engineer instead of an heir to a business empire where he needs to deal with problems he did not create, by the people he did not like—while humoring people who could be bothered to grant him some non-judgmental interactions.

It was when her phone vibrated again, with Innes asking if she could get cakes for the entire _fucking_ tower—something she felt endearing because of the subtle gesture which noted Innes' willingness to actually share. While others might be oblivious to it, Innes still counted everyone in the Tower and did not exclude them even though what he just did only involved several people within the team. Of course, the husband of Master Cakes’ owner, Finn Legend, would sound like he was just told that someone put him on a laboratory brain-sleep for a millennium to wake up to the Earth being occupied by dinosaurs, but his wife Lachesis took the phone from him to gleefully respond that _yes,_ she could provide such _shit ton_ of cake slices for the entire tower. Shortly before ending the call Vanessa thought she could hear the cake boss cackling like a comical villain.

 _I am still an assistant,_ Vanessa thought again as she put back her phone. Caellach was not around after the merciless castration by Selena, but when she got back from Master Cakes at around five to retrieve Innes’ order with the triplets Alva, Eve, and Eva who helped carrying all those cake slices, Caellach was back from the underworld, and lingered around her again as always. “What?” she had asked curtly. And then she realized she did not have anything for the whole day besides her half-eaten burrito in the morning when they bullied her, shortly after Innes left the pantry. Doing Innes’ notes including receiving Selena took up her entire afternoon, and she barely got to sit when Syrene called from the lobby after returning from accompanying Hayden to the hospital. Vanessa smirked as she informed Innes of that too, because he should also be returning shortly then—thankfully, Syrene was out within earshot to witness Caellach bullying her, or the Tower could see what potent force had she joined Selena to rip him to shreds. And Vanessa nearly gasped when she realized her older sister did drive Hayden to the hospital.

“The Rider witches have the bosses within their palms, I see,” the insufferable Caellach muttered to her as she supervised the Master Cakes triplets bringing in and arranging the cakes.

“Leave my sister out of this,” Vanessa hissed at him. She was hungry, she was bullied, she was irritated—and even if she got _emotional_ after a hard day at five thirty, it would still be _valid._

“You must be conspiring.”

“What even are you on again?”

“You got a female in a lab coat on purpose.”

Vanessa chuckled cynically. “Seriously, Caellach?” she shrugged her shoulders again, trying to fight the urge to toe off her shoe and slam his face with the heel. “And female is not a noun to be used like that.”

“Interesting how your thoughts seemed to mostly synergic to the Boss, eh?”

“And what of it?” Vanessa felt like there was a hammer pounding on her head at this point. “I spent these months tailing him behind and compiling his analyses for him. And there is Google first-aid if I'm lost at some things, duh.”

“Is that how you charmed him?”

“You are so not over that, aren’t you,” she rolled her eyes again.

“Yeah?” Caellach took another step, his eyes glistened as he did so and Vanessa frowned, unconsciously took a step back. “Don’t get cocky,” he hissed. “I aim for something big and glorious this time, and not to be defeated by bitches like you like I was in the past. Know your place, kid. You are new. Act like it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Vanessa responded, “act like it? Act like it you said? There you are all rattled and angry when I do exactly so by learning from Innes and the others.”

“And how do you prove that you play fair for that, little pet?”

“What?!”

“You can’t, huh?” Caellach stretched his hand, and for the moment Vanessa thought they were going to fight if he did not just aim for the mineral water behind her.

“I do not need to prove anything to you. Now leave,” Vanessa stared back at him.

“But to Innes, you sure do.”

“He _is_ my boss.”

“Means you can’t to me,” Caellach repeated like a classic school bully. “Sooner or later you will realize you don’t belong here. From what slum did Innes pick you up again? It’s not like you spent time scavenging resources and begging for scholarships to pay for your school. Really, what _is_ so great about you? You heard the lady scientist yourself that basically Innes already got nearly everything right without your _meddling._ At least your sister makes a nice senior caretaker for the Big Boss. Why do you think you should be here? How are you so sure that you did not get to that school or here without pity? How am I sure of it?”

“That is enough,” Vanessa inhaled heavily. Yes, she was a junior employee. Yes, Caellach was an older, senior employee. But to think that she could just bring up a raise casually with Innes—or how Innes also casually stated that anyone feeling like they had been undercompensated could talk about it with him directly—it was not like she owed Caellach the stalled promotions he thought he deserved. She hardly even remembered what division it was again that Caellach worked at since he was constantly annoying his female colleagues through being a dickhead bully.

She was just about to leave him when…

Her eyes widened when Caellach touched the tip of her pigtail, swaying it around like playing with a paint brush. “Now you’re crying again.”

“YOU will be the one to cry today,” just then Vanessa made a gesture to truly toe off her shoe like she was about to smash his face with it. _He got me,_ she thought, realizing how her voice was louder than what she had planned.

 “Really? Just some playful jokes and you break? What a baby. How stable, and yet I thought you wanted to tell me you are smart!” Caellach shrugged, finally leaving her alone as he casually trod back to where the cake stands were. “At least you make a good cake girl!”

 _Some people truly laughed,_ Vanessa noted again.

“What happened?” one person asked.

“Our little dragon tamer got hysterical,” she could hear Caellach speaking. “It was just a playful banter though, but seems the pressure of the job was too big for the new girl to handle.”

“Really? Finally caved in then. I almost thought she had no emotion at all, considering all the calm-collected-composed demeanor she put up when with Innes. Perhaps that is exactly why.”

_No—_

“I have… urgent business to attend,” she whispered to Alva who was loading the last cake batch. “Um—you can show the order in-voice to the finance lady over there and uh—collect the payment.”

“Oooh, I see. Very well, we got it!” Alva cheerfully replied her. “How about taking some first bites with you on the go, Miss Rider? The best ones are the ones stealthily eaten from the pan.”

“I uh—maybe next time. I’m in a hurry, I’m so sorry.”

“I see! Then we will be seeing you again for the usual pastry breakfast,” Alva gestured to Eve as his brother pushed the last cake cart while Eve cleared the others for them.

Vanessa grabbed her bag, her shoes making clicking sounds as they collided with the Tower’s beautiful expensive tiles when she stormed out. Suddenly the image of crafting a resignation letter felt so comforting.

* * *

 

 ** _nidhogg_** _Raspberry, sachertorte, classic black forest, blueberry cheese cakes and I don’t know anymore, the ballroom is drowned with **@MasterCakes**._

 **_sharksrightactivist_ ** _Wow, what are you celebrating? :O **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Your face greening with envy >:) **@sharksrightactivist**_

Innes returned his phone to his pocket when Alva greeted him. “I think we have loaded everything, Sir. And I already collected the payment from the finance department,” he showed him a receipt.

“Finance?” Innes frowned. “Is my assistant there? I need to reimburse her.”

“Your assistant,” Alva clasped his chin, “the green-haired lady with a pigtail? A Miss Rider, if I recall?”

“Yes, that’s her,” Innes hastily responded. “She did not pay you?”

“Oh no, it’s just because she left shortly before you came,” Alva responded. “Urgent, she said.”

Of course Innes did not stall looking for her right after the Master Cakes boys left, and he was rather annoyed when he could not find her around. And what was this urgent matter? How did she not inform him, _her boss,_ all the while maintaining a line of communication with him throughout the day?

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Jumbo-sized super spicy curry ramen!!_

 _She left me to eat noodles?_ Innes pondered, but Syrene was walking up to him. “Syrene. Coincidence. I…”

But the older Rider beamed with joy as she held a plate containing a slice of blueberry cake on it. “Mr. Frelia, thank you so much for the cakes! This truly is amazing, everyone loves them!”

“Yes, I liked the raspberry one myself,” he nodded, unsure of what to make out of Syrene’s smiles.

“I hope Vanessa has been helpful to you so far, Sir,” Syrene expressed, “I was a bit worried she would not be able to handle everything, but it seems my concerns are unfounded. Thank you for being so patient with my sister.”

“I think it should be the other way around,” Innes chuckled. “So you haven’t met Vanessa?”

“Ah yes, I wonder where she is! Maybe sitting somewhere to rest those weary legs,” Syrene giggled. “You better come join me, Mr. Frelia. The hungry zombies would not wait to demolish your cakes.”

“Most bloody likely,” Innes simply grinned, following her. He still held the phone in hand.

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _That looks so tasty omg… **@dutifulrider**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Come eat with me L **@prodigiggle** lol stop eating Kyle just once **@greenergrass**_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _H-HEEYYYY **@dutifulrider**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _HEY BACK KYLE **@greenergrass**_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _Eat that with me this Sunday. Sunday. Sunday. **@dutifulrider**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Sure! There is something I’m thinking too. See you **@prodigiggle**_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _DM ME THE NOODLE STAND **@dutifulrider**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _AWH YEAHHHH KEEP GOING STRONG, V **@dutifulrider**_

 **_dutifulrider @artsywarrior_ ** _Haha I was starvinggg haven’t had anything for the whole day._

Innes clutched his phone tightly, probably too tight than usual. He navigated through the crowd—did he overwork her until she had no time to eat? Yet he had some delightful, filling luxurious T-bone steak with a great wine to complete it. Did she keep him updated while forsaking her own lunch? And what was this ‘not having anything for the whole day’ part? Did she not have burrito with him?

Beep.

Innes frowned when he saw the name on the text message he just received.

 _Is there a Caellach working as data processor or something like that for you?_ —Selena Fluorspar.

 _I can vaguely remember but I don’t think he is in that division._ –sent.

 _Ohhh thank God. I was concerned his lack of knowledge could ruin your ship._ —Selena Fluorspar.

 _What do you mean?_ —sent.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
Why are you running away from me?_

Seen.

* * *

 

 

Vanessa faced her laptop. A cup of classic bubble tea reigned just right beside her, something she picked up on the go as she got to the station. A template of a word processor program was wide open, and Vanessa found herself sipping into the straw for the third time while her fingers sat idly on the keyboard. The page was still blank, and the more she thought of it, the harder for her to pen the letter.

_To whom it may concern,_

“Waah!” Vanessa reflexively secured her tea when her elbow nearly knocked it down, saving her laptop in the process. Who would have thought that the subtle way to tell that she was breaking, despite the composed demeanor Syrene praised so much, was depending on whether or not she was distressed enough to knock down the drinks around her? But that movement accidentally highlighted the sentence she just typed, and with her mouse knocked upside-down, what she just wrote was beautifully deleted. Vanessa swore under her breath, yet feeling relieved at the same time. She was not feeling right about the sentence, and at least the accidental deletion gave her a chance to rewrite it.

… Well, it was not that she felt right about penning the letter at all. First of all it was not even ‘to whom it may concern’ since her boss was practically Innes. Second, what reason would she give him? She actually liked working for him, and it would be dishonesty not to acknowledge nice benefits she got from the Tower. But after Caellach’s constant bullying or witnessing how socialites and the wealthy interacted, no longer could she trust herself that she would be able to endure everything anymore. It did not escape her that Innes could buy cakes for everyone working at Valni in a heartbeat. And she could not just unsee his Instagram feed, including the casual chardonnay night he had with the Renais twins or other instances about how he never touched a burrito in his life.

 _Dear Mr. Frelia,_ she started typing again, _it is with my deepest regret to inform you that I—_ she stopped, closing her eyes to find an answer and summon a courage to do what she ought to. Reflexively glancing at the phone near the monitor, she realized she still had Instagram open.

The direct message from Innes she did not reply. How was she going to tell him anyway? That she felt unworthy to be there? That she genuinely wanted Innes to chastise her if he must, which he probably did not because he could not find any other person he could interview in a short time to fill in her position? That she wanted to make sure she was there without taking someone else’s place—someone more deserving, and probably of the STEM background which would be more reasonable to replace her due to the background’s affiliation with Innes’.

 _—am submitting my resignation, thus giving my two-week notice—_ she paused again, feeling even more uneasy as she continued typing. Suddenly she felt so sentimental. Why did penning the letter feel like she was personally saying goodbye to him? That she would plan to disappear from his life altogether, even considering further options such as moving back home or even separating from Syrene through renting a room for herself? And even if it did feel like a personal farewell, why was she feeling so sad?

Vanessa huffed, dragging her bag with her phone in hand. Perhaps she should just turn it off and exile it to the mysterious abyss that was her bag’s inner pocket. That way she would not be distracted by Innes’ message she ignored, or the urge to check on his profile again.

_Good night, phone. Now die—_

She did not have the chance to smother the phone by pressing the power button until the screen went black because it rang just right when she was about to do so. She paused. The name on the screen really was the person she dreaded to face at the moment—no, not Caellach because, well, she did not think the asshole even cared enough to save her number. And what for? Actually, perhaps it would be nice to have Caellach calling her so she could just block him.

_I don’t care, die now—_

Vanessa was about to bury her phone by first letting the call die down on its own, because sure Innes would know he was rejected if she was to turn it off right away. Well, she doubted Innes could not tell that he was being ignored, anyway—considering the message he sent four hours ago. And thinking of these all only made her realize that she did _not_ actually hate Innes. If anything, perhaps she should really tell him what happened—

Something tucked in her bag startled her: the envelope. The envelope, sealed envelope with a marked stamp bearing a logo on it, addressed to Innes. Vanessa took a generous gulp of her bubble tea as she sucked into the straw, feeling utterly annoyed of herself that she accidentally took Innes’ commissioned report with her. So much professionalism! So…

_Unworthy._

So she gathered her resolve and slowly answered the call. After all she had to return the report to Innes. And finish summarizing what she gathered from talking to Doctor Fluorspar including giving the finishing touch for other notes Innes had left her to compile. At least she would quit in honor and glory. At least all the rich wolves at Valni could see that she finished what they demanded of her.

“Hello?” she said, lying down in bed for some comfort. She would need it. She was talking to Innes. And she would have to tell him she accidentally took the envelope with her… and she wanted to quit.

“Vanessa?”

She paused for a moment. Did Innes just call her by the first name? _Fuck_ —she thought, feeling odd to find the cuss when the situation was less dire compared to when she was with Caellach. Especially because it was meant to capture her surprise because, now in the depth of a serene night and off office hour, Innes’ deep baritone voice seemed to sound even _nicer_ than his already nice regular one.

“Mister… Frelia,” she responded awkwardly. “Yes, it is me… Vanessa.”

“… Ah. Sorry. I did not want to misdial by ringing Syrene’s number.”

_Of course he would not call me that. Of course—_

“It is alright, Sir,” she spoke again. “I was merely surprised because…” _Would it kill you if you mention my name, or are you actually as stuck-up as people said you are? Wait. Why the hell would I care? You can call me ‘Assistant’ and it’s not like it matters—_

“The time, yes. Were you asleep?”

“No, Sir.”   _I was penning my resignation letter—_

“Good. I want to talk to you.”

 _Someone tell this man to stop calling people because—his voice—_ “Actually, likewise, Sir.”

“You do?” she caught a delight in his tone.

“Yes.” _And even NICER when he is happy?_

“Then why did not you wait for my return?”

 _Of course he will ask that._ “I uh… grabbed noodles.”

“You grabbed noodles?”

“I mean to say I ATE noodles!” 

“I am joking, Rider.”

“Mister Frelia—putain." Just then Vanessa stopped, burying her face in her pillow. Did she just call him that? Out of reflex or not, she _did_ call him that. And why was a swear word the only thing she learned after those visits to online language learning sites and talking to L’Arachel?! “Sir,” she whispered into the phone, resisting the urge to set herself on fire at the moment. “I’m truly sorry. I mean, it’s not that I actually wanted to curse you—“ her voice died when she caught his _roaring_ laughter from the other side.

“Mon Dieu, c’est amusant. Ça fait longtemps que j'avais pas rigolé comme ça.”

 _Now that he is in a good mood—and even huskier, **nicer** voice— _ “… Sir.”

“Yes, my assistant?”

“I... just realized that I... accidentally took the sealed envelope containing your commissioned report with me. It was already in my bag, and...”

“And you left without waiting for me.”

 _Why does he sound so adamant about this?_ “... Exactly that.”

“Then perhaps this is a blessing in disguise,” Innes spoke again. “Are you free tomorrow?”

 _What?_ “Ah—yes. Yes, I am.”

“Then come to meet me.”

 _Overtime,_ Vanessa sighed secretly. She really did not feel like being around Valni after that day, but regardless of the overtime Innes demanded, that meant she would have the chance to return the supposed envelope to Innes, including telling him she wanted to resign. ... After all seemed her honesty work better when spoken instead of written. “Certainly, Sir. What time do you want me to be there?” _Professional. Professional._ _I am professional—_

“What time will be good with you?”

“Um… usually you want me by… eight as usual?”

“How about ten?”

 _Huh?_ “… Of course. Um, actually, better. See you at Valni, Sir.”

Vanessa thought she caught Innes’ soft coughing from the other side—the sound which he made shortly before responding. “I don’t mean the Tower.”

 _Eh?_ “Um… where then, Sir?” she quickly dragged her Post-It note near her bed and fetched a pen out of her bag, anticipating for any restaurant she probably had not even heard of since this was unusual.

“Farmer’s market.”

 _Wha—??_ “Farmer’s… market,” she repeated slowly to convince herself that he truly, really, just said that.

“You know where it is, so you will be my navigator,” Innes’ tone was still flat as usual as if he did not just say something shocking. “And since it will be informal, don’t concern yourself with dress codes.”

 _Yay, non-robotic clothes!_ “I see. So we will meet at Valni and go to the farmer’s market together?”

“No. I’m picking you up.”

“Um… h-haha, hahaha, you really don’t need to do that, Sir. I’m not actually light-weighted, you know? I also have no joint problems either—“

_Crap._

_CRAP. NOOOO—_

“SIR!!—I DON’T—“Vanessa truly _squealed_ at her phone now.

“That is not what I meant,” said the tender, tender reply from the other side’s baritone voice as if Innes tried to confine all the smiles and laughter in his throat, “although I don’t mind the alternative as well.”

“A-aaah, please stop talking. I can’t tell if you are joking or not!”

“You seem to always have the perfect responses for either situation, though,” finally her boss could not hold it any longer and let out series of sincere chuckles. “If I stop talking, I can’t ask for your address.”

“Alright, please listen carefully…”

“Of course I will, dear assistant.”

 _THAT voice. DAMMIT—_ “Hold on. I… forgot.”

“You forgot your own address?”

 _Why do I keep making a fool of myself whenever he stops being so formal?! And I thought everyone else too would want this more tempered version of him!_ “Let us try again,” she got a hold of herself and began dictating him the address.

“Then I will repeat it to verify with you.”

“N-no, please don’t say anything, your voice is—“

“Yes?”

“Like that. Ummm. I mean. You are very smart, of course you will get it right.”

“And if I showed up at the wrong door?”

“Y-you can ask around.”

“And if I showed up at the wrong Vanessa Rider?”

“T-then I’ll pick you up instead! I’ll call the police! And the firemen too!”

“Rider, I’m not a lost cat,” Innes chuckled again, relishing in the sensation he never thought he could feel. He was not entirely _innocent_ when it came to _that,_ but nothing was ever serious so far, and it was safe to say that he hardly even dated anyone because of his tight, super-planned schedules. “See you.”

“Gone he is,” Vanessa jittered, fidgeted, and eventually nearly suffocated herself with her blanket.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Listen. I’m thinking of quitting. I just don’t know how to tell Innes._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
You hate Innes?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
… What? NO. NOT AT ALL ACTUALLY. I’m meeting him tomorrow but not sure how to tell him that._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
You should be able to handle the conversation you ask for. Usually not many people will be around on a Saturday so I’m confident it will be better than your worst-case scenario. Or have a nice lunch first?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Nice lunch? And then bomb him?_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Yeah? They give last meals to inmates with death sentences, right?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
LUTE—nevemind. I’m meeting him at the farmer’s market. Can’t microwave myself that way._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Farmer’s market. On a weekend, a day before our noodles date._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Yeah. Gonna pick me up by 10. Saying I shouldn’t mind dress codes._

 **_prodigiggle  
_ ** _To the farmer’s market, on a weekend._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Spill it out already today nearly turned me into a serial killer and I just want to sleep_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Alright, first—you don’t hate Innes but you want to quit because of Innes? Don’t quit._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
I don’t get you._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Same here, because apparently he is not the reason, but you want to quit because of him?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
He can use someone better. Someone worthy. Key word here worthy. And smarty. STEM-y._

 **_prodigiggle?_ ** _  
Steamy?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
Do not combine ‘steamy’ and ‘Innes’ together ever again. … At least not for now._

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
Yet you insist he should find someone else, preferably affiliated with his background?_

 **_durifulrider_ ** _  
That’s normal though?_

 **_prodigiggle  
_ ** _Pffft V, what is this background discourse? He is not a wallpaper. And I thought he valued you too much that he enslaved you more with his numbers. Also he’s taking you on a date. And you’re not worthy?_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _  
I know it’s my job duh but_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _WAIT LUTE WHAT DID YOU SAY_

 **_prodigiggle  
_ ** _Goodnight, V :)_

* * *

Vanessa checked herself in the mirror for the 23rd time that morning. The weather was pretty cool, but not cold enough to make people lazy and want to stay in bed all day either. Vanessa checked her outfit for the last time—getting an exasperated “Finally!” reaction from Syrene, who just woke up and was eating leftover celebration cake slices Innes made her to take home. Vanessa had put on a light brown malted cardigan over her mini dress, which had a soft, calming broken white background and floral motif on it. She combined the dress with burgundy thigh-high socks, and her face went deep red when Syrene whistled from her bed. “Take that cardigan off, and sexiness ensues.”

“Syrene.”

“No man can resist thigh-highs so far.”

“SYRENE.”

“What do you think Innes is, a fish?”

“I don’t want to be sexy. I want to be professional since I’ll also return his commissioned report to him,” Vanessa grumbled. “And it will be the farmer’s market. I need something casual yet still chic.”

“Being professional at the farmer’s market. Sounds sexy to me,” Syrene giggled, and only stopped when Vanessa threw her a maroon shawl she considered wearing before.

“Whatever,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, loading Innes’ envelope which contained the commissioned report into her folder as well as her own paper she wrote to compile Innes’ summaries and notes on the day he had a meeting with Pablo. Vanessa dragged a pair of beige ankle boots out of her closet, and a cute fluffy white purse followed shortly after she finished putting on the boots. Checking her face in the mirror for the last time, she tidied her long pigtail, which by then was decorated with a soft pink ribbon.

_The ribbon. Why did I take Syrene’s fashion advice exactly NOW?_

Vanessa made a kissing gesture with her lips as a last touch to keep her ready-to-go coral pink lipstick neat. She felt rather different now that she got to dress up a little bit, even though it was only an attempt to get elegant with earthly colors while maintaining the impression of youth compared to her daily monotone business attires and classic Mary Janes. Just right after she was done with her outfit, both sisters could hear a faint sound of a car pulling into their apartment’s basement and Syrene made a face teasing her again. Vanessa tried so hard not to choke Syrene’s giddy expression out of her face when the bell rang around five minutes after they heard the car noise.

“It’s ten already?” Syrene glanced at the clock hanging on their wall above the TV.

“Mr. Frelia is always on-time when he sets the date,” Vanessa responded dryly.

“And now he sets the date…” Syrene teased again. “V, are you going to call him that for the rest of your life? At least for the rest of the day?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be working for him for the rest of my life,” Vanessa felt rather uneasy since Syrene’s comment reminded her of her resignation plan, and walked up to the door to answer it.

“Good morning,” Innes’ lips cracked into the shape of a crescent moon, giving the sisters a polite smile they had been used to see at the Tower. “Hello, Syrene.” He addressed her as his father did.

“Hi, Mr. Frelia,” Syrene waved her hand from the couch. “Have fun.”

“What time should I return her?” Vanessa thought she could see a faint smirk on his face when he asked.

“Depends. Does she want to return?” Syrene _grinned,_ and Innes did not waste time chuckling while Vanessa made a mental note to murder her sister when she returned. “And lastly, she’s allergic to French language.”

“About that, I disagree,” Innes smiled again, and Vanessa nearly literally pushed him out of the door before Syrene found out she accidentally shouted a _putain_ at him. She tailed Innes to the basement where he parked, noticing how Innes did not dress in his typical formal attire during regular days. He had an earthly green military-style jacket over his light blue shirt and tactical silvery-gray cargo pants. The outfit made him appear much more casual than his daily impression was, and he seemed to enjoy the comfort his regular clothing provided him, including the tan-colored what looked like sturdy mountain climber shoes which crowned his feet.

 _Nerd,_ Vanessa recalled Forde’s Instagram comment, and she nearly chuckled herself. But her laughter only became even more muffled when she noticed Innes unlocking his car and actually opened the passanger door for her. “For me?”

“Yes? Is there anyone else around here?” Innes replied innocently, genuinely confused.

“No, it’s just—aren’t I your assistant?”

“And a very cute one today as well. What of it?”

 _C... cute?_ “Sir—“

“If I said that at the door, it might be mistaken for Syrene,” Innes replied casually. “Do you mind?”

“Actually—“ she stood facing Innes, who still waited on her. “… I don’t,” she replied, holding her head low so he could not see her expression and how sheepishly awkward she had become. After they were seated and Innes started the car, Vanessa said, “do you like sports car that much, Sir?” because she noticed Innes had taken a metallic gray Ford Mustang for today. Well, it was not that she ever saw his car first-hand, but she imagined billionaires would drive something… fancier, if not flashier.

“I like the power this Ecoboost Fastback generates,” Innes put on his sunglasses and began driving. “It yields better top speed, but the powerful engine makes it easier to ride on various trains, and you know I like things to be efficient and capable,” stopping the car when they ran into a red light, he continued, “did you picture me getting obnoxiously flashy with Rolls-Royce and something like that?”

“Now you are teasing me,” Vanessa replied. “… But to tell you the truth, yes.”

“Why would I want a fancy car which maintaining budget can be used to buy another car?” Innes smirked, and Vanessa had become familiar with that expression knowing the dragon would breathe fire to grill something… someone. “And often times those luxurious cars drink worse than a drunkard.”

“I… I guess, h-hahaha,” Vanessa chuckled awkwardly again. After all he did not need to flaunt what he got because… just because he drove a popular car brand, did not mean he did not have money since the Frelias practically owned _so much._

“Then I guess you pictured me in your mind again and again.”

 _S-so I am the one to be grilled today huh?_ “No, but like…” – _because you there is this giant gap between us considering you are a wealthy conglomerate and—_ “… Ah, turn left from here.”

“Alright,” Innes obediently followed her direction instruction, and it did not take time for them to reach for the market. The place was even more crowded and livelier on a weekend, and Vanessa only gave an understanding smile when Innes’ eyes glinted as soon as he took off his sunglasses to glance around.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Farmer’s market._

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _So you ended up going! **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Yes, where do you think I am, you numbnut, a whale’s uterus? **@sharkwrestler**_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _You know uteri. Impressive! **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Anatomy subject does impress children huh :) **@sharkwrestler**_

Vanessa’s smile grew wider when she saw his Instagram update. “You are fast! I was about to snap a picture myself—“ just then she realized something. If she posted it on her Instagram as well, then… then people would tell Innes went to the market with her. And he was her boss. And a scandal would ensue. And there would be interviews and camera flashes. And people would want to know about her. And she would have to answer a yet another ‘why are you here’ question. And and and— “… Since those fresh fruits at the juice counter look incredible,” she clutched her phone tightly.

“Do you want some?” Innes offered simply, much to her surprise again.

“Unwinding before lunch? Haha, alright! Ah, wait, I’ll get my wallet first. It’s stuck in the purse—“

“Then let’s keep it that way,” Innes smiled at her as he proceeded to walk to the counter.

“Mr. Frelia—“ she ran after him, finding him already looking at the fruits to decide. “I can’t let you always pay for me like that.”

“When is this ‘always’? I owe you breakfasts.”

“You are undefeatable,” Vanessa eventually gave in, taking Innes to sit with her at a wooden bench enjoying some nice fresh wind coming their way. “… Ah, yes—mango, please.”

“I am not… _that_ undefeatable,” Innes received his cup from the seller as he watched people around. “There is something I need to tell you about. I was curt with you when you mentioned the market at the pantry because—I stopped going after my mother died.”

_So that’s not because he hated my suggestion?_

“She was the one who usually took me and Tana for leisure because my father was dead busy with Valni. 20 years ago the world was changing and he gave his all to steer Valni where the wind was. As you see we did come out triumphant, but to decide where to navigate itself took so much work and observation, which exactly what I’m trying to do now. My father is setting Valni with five-star standard, and I can’t let it degrade under my leadership. Later… or now,” Innes confessed. “When you brought the burrito, suddenly I realized there are so much, so much things I abandon or overlook because of how busy I’ve been with everything, all to fit in my father’s footprints. That’s why I asked you for the chips. Yes, it was _fucking_ spicy. But I had forgotten how fun being random and letting loose like that was.”

“Mr. Frelia, I…”

_—want to quit—_

“I hope I’m not boring you with sob stories,” Innes stood up, finishing the juice and tried to hide his bitter smile. “My mother is the sense of harmony I missed greatly. And no—of course I’m not comparing you to my mother, that will be weird. It’s just somehow you kind of… brought back what I’ve forsaken. Things I haven't done in a long time that I hardly remember the feelings they used to give me.”

“And I thought—I thought I don’t belong in the Tower, Sir.”

“What?”

“Um…”

“Then let’s discuss later when we are well fed.”

 _He looked cautious now. Argh, why do I ruin everything? I bet he did not get to relax like this all the time._ “Then this time I’m going to pay for both of us,” she suggested. “And you can’t turn me down, because I know this place while you don’t!”

“Alright. Bring it on.”

Vanessa took him to an assorted-everything counter, where people were queuing for boxed meals. Innes watched various foods displayed behind a glass counter with great interest, and knowing he wanted an explanation, Vanessa gladly told him. “You can ask what you want and then they’ll put it in the box… there are packages but you can just buy a la carte too. You only pay what is in the box.”

“Interesting. Maybe I can use this for my shipyard for cost efficiency?” Innes grinned. “Food counter with pay-what-you-eat only thing. More affordable this way, yes? And for the seller too, because one-two batch of four kinds of food alone can last the whole day. I think it will even be more effective if I can get some of those local fishermen to sell cooked seafood this way. And I believe people love the idea of fresher, more affordable seafood that they will not mind getting close to the harbor to get some.”

“Hehe, now you’re talking, Mr. Frelia!” Vanessa felt equally happy now that he was eager to work again. “But really, I think you need to relax. Not because you are an asshole—“ she said the word in his style and tone, which made his eyes twinkle—“but because you will exhaust yourself, and getting sick…”

“… is not nice,” he completed her sentence, in _her_ tone. The two joined each other in a shared laughter.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Fresh fruits! Fresh juices! Yummm._

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _V is going vegan!_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _She is not. HEHEHEH. :) :) **@artsywarrior**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _SHUT UP LUTE **@prodigiggle**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Your GF smiles. I’m scared **@greenergrass @prodigiggle**_

“Yes, exactly!” Vanessa nodded cheerfully, and Innes smiled again before leaving her to talk with the food counter’s proprietor. From where she sat, she could hear Innes getting a quick genesis of businesses run by people like her, modest eateries like hers, including how seaside BBQ and grill, including seafoods, were usually dominated by rich people-frequented hotels and resorts.

 **_gracefulwing_ ** _  
How is it going so far, V?_

 **_dutifulrider  
_ ** _He wants to explore local-powered eateries with the seafood industry he owns, I think. He may want to be a patron for the local community he has in mind?_

 **_gracefulwing_ ** _  
… So he is STILL working? Wait. YOU can actually guess what he is thinking? :O_

 _It is Innes, who can rein the dragon?_ Vanessa contemplated, but left Syrene’s message hanging. Perhaps her sister was too overjoyed thinking she was finally getting to socialize again, and that someone nice and reliable would take her out on a date—finally, for real. Vanessa felt her mouth dry at an instant. _I am not Syrene,_ she sadly thought again, thinking of her sister’s vivacious demeanor, and how she easily earned admirations from men and women alike, including how she easily charmed everyone’s hearts.

“I’m sorry to leave you waiting,” Innes lingered back at her side. “Let’s walk around here before deciding the food.”

“It’s alright. Just tell me what you need to be done per usual and I’ll be glad to do what you task me for... I heard you talking with the food seller,” Vanessa simply responded, following Innes who had been enthusiastic watching all the foods behind glass counters. He finally selected some tacos with grilled pork belly chops and a roasted corn while Vanessa got herself some greens with totally tempting Jamaican spicy jerk chickens.

“I’m getting that too,” Innes grinned, and totally went for it. “I don’t lose my target.”

Vanessa walked up to the counter and paid for both of them. “Today you do, Sir,” she giggled.

“Oh _putain,_ ” Innes grinned, again, and again, in _her tone._ “Never thought I’d be so excited that I forgot I vowed to defeat you racing to pay for our lunches.”

“You don’t like it when the woman pays for you?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t like it when the man pays for you?” he playfully returned her line, expecting her to huff and making another comeback—if not secretly wishing for a real answer. But she went silent for a while, which really made him feel bad. Clearing his throat, he asked. “… No, really, have I offended you?”

“That is not… the point, Mr. Frelia,” she fidgeted with her cardigan as Innes put down his fork. “I cannot answer because I don’t know. I mean—I didn’t… I don’t—go on dates often—“ Vanessa gasped so hard she nearly spilled pineapple agua fresca she ordered. And just then Innes stretched his hand from over the table they sat in, gently touching her shoulder…

“I am not asking that so I can call you degrading gendered names.”

“W-well, what I meant to tell you is that I either did not have time to, or because they did not like me. Most likely the latter because I’m not fun. So I mean, I can’t answer you because I don’t know,” Vanessa chuckled awkwardly. “People always told me I’m too serious to be around. I can’t even tell if you are joking with me or not! And there is Syrene, who is always graceful and witty at the same time. I uh—I was simply thinking, how could I answer to such question if the experience itself is… lacking?”

“Then how do you feel about me treating you?”

“Huh?”

“Yes. Have I offended you by those gestures I offered you?” He repeated. “I like this market. I like my chance to drive you like this, but I don’t want to be the only one enjoying it all.”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. I like things legal and unpredatory just like how I run my company, assistant, " Innes stuck his tongue at her—“and _consensual_.”

“P-please stop using vague big words on unexpected unlikely situations.”

“Right, right. Then I don’t like putain if putain results on the other person saying putain.”

“Mr. Frelia, Sir ….” Vanessa’s head went limp on the table.

“There, there,” Innes’ laughter rippled out again as he made a gesture to pat her head. “I feel rather guilty. I’ve been being giddy enjoying this market like a little boy on a carnival he thought he’d never see again. … Which is true, honestly, so for that, I thank you,” he said that one so sincerely, and Vanessa found a drop of light she thought emanating from his tender gaze when he faced her. “I treated you these things simply thinking I need to convey my appreciation of you so far. Miss Pigtail, I truly think I’ll never get to land my feet at a farmer’s market again, let alone on a weekend with many people around… with many kids and their parents around. Also, the chance to eat things I did not even know existing because you see, I’m still in the snobbish rich asshole demography.”

“But Sir, I hardly thought you’re like that…” Vanessa muttered honestly, prompting Innes to lose his mischievous grin as his tender gaze returned. “I mean, you still do some working though we’re here.”

“And what would the snobbish rich assholes do, in your mind?”

“Treating people like fleas,” Vanessa answered in the manner of playing jeopardy quiz, “flaunting their newest iPhone? Can’t wait to tell people they own a yacht?”

“Flaunting a newest iPhone? iPhone, flaunt-worthy?”

“Y-you are a cold-blooded killer, Sir.”

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Even jerk chickens are better than the actual jerk I know **@sharkwrestler**_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _Did you die because you seem to be in heaven **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _See, they are better than you since they don’t even talk **@sharkwrestler**_

Vanessa glanced at Innes, who was still glued to his phone. She wanted to cancel her post, but…

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Fiery, spicy, better than thee #jerkchicken_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _O_o Whose hand is it in front of you V? **@dutifulrider**_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _Curiosity killed the cat :) **@artsywarrior**_

 **_artsywarrior @greenergrass_ ** _Oi wakeup you Bermuda pants your GF smiled at me again I’m scared_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _She is trying to save humanity :) :) **@artsywarrior**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Well, fuck you too, Kyle **@greenergrass**_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _No thanks I like it private this is not a 3-person party **@artsywarrior**_

 **_artsywarrior @prodigiggle_ ** _RETURN KYLE’S PHONE LUTE YOU CABBAGE **@greenergrass**_

_OH MERDE—_

**_soaringhiii_** _Innes, where are you?? If you are at Valni I’m coming for my driver_ **_@nidhogg_**

 ** _nidhogg_** _I’m not at Valni_ **_@soaringhiii_** _Be careful going home from the gym._

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _Wait, there’s a hand in front of you! **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Tana, I don’t do cannibalism. That hand still has a master **@soaringhiii**_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _It’s a lady alright **@nidhogg**_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _I did not ask the gender of chickens I’m eating, dear sister **@soaringhiii**_

 **_sharkwrestler @nidhogg_ ** _Got a lady??_

 **_nidhogg_ ** _‘Got a lady?’ What do you think I am, a human trafficker?! **@sharkwrestler**_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _Haha **@nidhogg** is embarrassed btw hey Innes’ lady friend what brand is your nail polish?_

_—PUTAIN._

Vanessa gaped, hearing the word escaped Innes’ lips. She took her eyes off her phone, glancing at Innes, but at the same time the Frelian heir also tore his gaze off the phone, and in the moment their eyes met. “W-what to do now,” Vanessa whispered. “This is because of the chickens.”

“What a _jerk,_ ” Innes gave a finger at the jerk chickens on his plate, and Vanessa seriously laughed because of the totally unusual gesture he displayed. “Well, good question. Backup plan: take a photo with me.”

“What?! But Sir!”

“Classical warfare-wise, the most dangerous place makes the safest sanctuary,” Innes shrugged. “You see, like when you infiltrate an enemy castle. Storming it from the outside? Dangerous. But you are inside. They cannot touch you because you are mingling as one of them.”

“What does it have to do with us?”

“I met and ate with _many_ people, Rider,” Innes simply smirked again. “What is wrong with me taking a photo with you, just one of the people I had food with? If _shit_ happens, it’s on them, not _us_.”

“I… I see,” Vanessa responded, a bit sad. _Just one of the people… among many…_

“Get that file folder. Lay it before us. Caption it,” Innes simply instructed, and he did pose with Vanessa, whom, shortly after, posted the newly-taken photo on Instagram.

 ** _nidhogg_** _Eat hard, work harder. With my assistant **@dutifulrider**_ _#overtime_

 ** _soaringhiii_**  
_Innes, just so you know I’m your SISTER. Meaning, I’m NOT dumb._

 **_nidhogg_ ** _  
You are MY sister? ZOMG!!_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _  
JERK._

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Finishing touch :)  with the Boss **@nidhogg**_

 **_prodigiggle  
_ ** _… You TOUCHED him? And he did not evaporate?_

 **_gracefulwing  
_ ** _Ayyy V is finally adulting._

“H-haha. Hahaha,” Vanessa chuckled awkwardly again as her eyes traced the direct messages she received. “I uh—I bet you regret this, Sir.”

“And if I don’t?” Innes cheekily glanced at the photo he took with Vanessa again, but he frowned when an incoming text caught his attention.

_Sorry, I went drinking with Glen yesterday. Yes, with him lingering around I thought he was part of your team. Since he seemed to be so brash, I was just trying to save you there. –Selena Fluorspar._

_I only sent for Vanessa and did not authorize anyone else to see the report. –sent._

_Yes, you told me. Then why was he there? I just found it odd that a person who did not even know what a marine cofferdam was would be there talking about ship reconstruction. –Selena Fluorspar._

_I’m calling you now. –sent._

With it, Innes took Vanessa’s file folder. Vanessa felt a bit relieved, because, hey, at least the folders were back in his hand again, so today’s so-called meeting already met its purpose… right? But why did her boss have that grim, sour look on his face?!

“This is Fluorspar,” Vanessa could faintly hear the other side speaking, and Innes did not seem to be bothered to walk away so he could have the phone call he wanted, or the fact that she could faintly listen to their conversation for being this close to him. “Ah, Innes?” the voice spoke again.

“Go on, Selena,” this time Innes glanced at Vanessa, who became nervous because of that. Her boss had all his typical daily working demeanor back, including the draconic aura he exuded through that commanding, authoritative tone. “… What do you mean that … no, no, I made everything clear because I want to know about the ship and not the portable enclosure for seashore construction. No, the report is fine then.” And just like that Innes only quietly listened to Selena talking without saying anything. Finally, he muttered a really sharp _“Motherfucker,”_ at the end of the phone call before glancing back at her.

Vanessa never heard Innes cuss like that. Alright, today was an off-office hour, but still, despite his harsh words and telling-like-it-is tendencies, Innes hardly needed to use vulgar words like that since his infamous tongue easily butchered its target elegantly. “Is everything alright, Mr. Frelia?”

“No,” Innes muttered under his breath. “Rider, sadly I need to go back to Valni right now.”

“Oh,” Vanessa gave a small nod, not knowing what else to say. A ‘don’t go’? “Am I needed?”

“No.”

“I—see. And then I will be…“ Vanessa tumbled on her words as she stood to smooth her cardigan and dress. _Why am I feeling gloomy? There is no reason to. I did plan to quit anyway. A goodbye is inevitable._

“Where are you going?”

“Home?” Vanessa stood, genuinely confused by his question because he also stood up.

“Why the rush?”

“Uh—because I need to catch my train since you’re going back to Valni?”

“Did I say something about throwing you out of my car?”

“You are—driving me home, Sir?”

“Why, yes, of course,” Innes spoke as if he did not believe he was asked that question, and as he packed the food he had not finished, he moved a piece of jerk chicken he had not touched into her box. “And you better finish this too. I love getting work done, but not at the expense of your skipped meals.”

 _Ah…_ “I’m—I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered. What should she tell Innes? That she was nervous the whole day because of the piling workload, with Caellach bullying her and trying to humiliate her in front of his office guest, that she was so tired after ordering from Master Cakes, that Caellach had her cornered and for a splitting second she thought he would lay a hand on her? That the others laughed at her? That she was truly weighing in to quit because she was not supposed to be there, let alone being in that position?

“It’s only driving. Come on. It is only normal for me to return you home just like how I picked you up,” Innes gestured her to follow him, “… regardless which pick-up that is.”

_That is not what I meant—_

He frowned when Vanessa did not say anything but following him in silence, considering the inside joke reference. It did not escape him that her steps were languid, and he began to question if…

_Does she… hope to spend more time with me? If nobody has taken her on real dates so far and I actually ruined the experience for her because—fuck, why can’t I just—_

“I’ll think of some other way to fix it,” he said, starting the car.

“Don’t be, Sir. Unnecessary,” she replied, her voice was soft and trembling. She did not say anything on the way home, so Innes stopped talking as well. The car drive felt awkward due to the silence. Even Syrene could not mask her startled expression when Vanessa returned at their apartment door so early.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing. Exactly why. I mean—I did not actually hope for anything, but I am just… nothing.”

“V? Come on, you had a fight with Innes?”

“I don’t. What I’m saying is, I’m nothing. Might as well stop burdening you too, Sy.”

“V?”

_Now how am I going to tell him and Syrene about my plan to resign?_

* * *

 

Sunday went practically peaceful and typical for Vanessa, except for the part of her catching up with Lute to eat big-bowled spicy ramen noodles. She tried to be cheerful when listening to Lute talking about Kyle in between slurping her noodles. “Yeah, I’m kind of officially Kyle’s now. Wait, no, he IS mine.”

Yet Vanessa’s thoughts lingered on Innes. The Frelian heir did not contact her again after Saturday, which made everything feel so unreal. Did Innes truly take her out that Saturday? And yet he just took her file folder without even discussing his project again. What would await her on Monday? How should she face him again, would she even get a talking chance to talk about her resignation? And she thought she had handled everything bravely so far. She had made her presence known—

… Which explained why the disgruntled coworkers like Caellach started to disliking her. The enmity felt clearer and clearer each day, with some same people would steer away from her and talked about her behind her back. Some days, they would treat her like she was his _favorite,_ trying to present tributes through compliments with a subtle message that they wanted to get close to Innes.

And Vanessa hated the situation. It reminded her of school again, where she had been so studious in order to hunt down for scholarships and student loans while keeping her grades well to not lose them. Where people easily called her conceited because there was the beautiful Syrene who could still be charming _and_ smart. And in between of those days, there were people who got friendly with her and she thought they genuinely wanted to be her friend. Where she committed perhaps too many social faux-pas because she could not tell if people were joking, whether people meant what they said. Where she just wished to evade making mistakes and worthy of being the sister of perfect Syrene, where she eventually just shut everyone out while her own mind became more and more trained to shut down or invalidating herself.

Monday came and Vanessa picked up Innes’ breakfast as usual, only to not find him in the office room he occupied. His office room was unusually tidy, because Innes would always have something to do that cluttered work space with graphs and papers made an unsurprising sight. Vanessa felt her heart sunk, thinking her days at Valni was outnumbered. Perhaps she made a major mistake interpreting everything Selena told her, and Innes had to fix some things before clearing his schedule to grill her.

Yet Vanessa could not let go the image of Innes in his casual setting, including his outfit and how more relaxed and humorous he could be without the walls confining him. She secretly made a wish to be able to see that again before she resigned or getting kicked out of the Tower.

Vanessa set Innes’ breakfast on the table, taking a piece of paper to leave a note. “There is this nice chicken biryani behind your building so I’m getting you that and some grilled chicken tandoori…” she mumbled, reciting her own note. “… Since you usually don’t eat in the morning, I’m thinking of getting something more filling for you this time.” She eventually signed it with her name, date, and then time when she wrote it. “P/S. I’m not sure if you had good meals yesterday because you seemed to be busy. If you don’t like them, please inform me, Mr. Frelia, so I don’t—“ the pen made a botched ink stain as she paused to think, “—overstep your boundaries,” she thought again.

And then she quickly ran a correction pen over the extra part because it felt rather emotional over there. What was left outside the office should not be taken in, she pondered, feeling inadequate. _And then I kept telling him that I’m a professional. I kept telling Syrene I’m a professional. And yet._

“Your prince isn’t in the castle as always, huh?”

“Fuck you, Caellach,” Vanessa hissed.

“Nice to hear that from an expert.”

“What is your problem with me, really?” Vanessa folded her arms.

“What isn’t?” Caellach grinned again. “And you probably want to be respectful a little bit when speaking to me since today, little Rider.”

“Get a mirror and say that there,” Vanessa huffed.

“Really? That is not nice to say to your new boss, you know.”

“What?” Vanessa stopped. Caellach was an asshole, but he would be more than transparent when he had something to brag about.

“Oh, poor little Rider. Finally fell out of favor and being damned to be unaware of it,” he sang along. “First, the possibility of you being demoted, perhaps?” with a rude gesture he dropped a file folder on her palms from behind his back. “This is yours for today, babe.”

“From who?”

“Of course the Prince.”

“Innes?” Vanessa stared at him again. “I don’t understand.”

“Finally, a defeat,” Caellach grinned. “And this is from me.”

“Why do I have to do your shit for you?”

“Because if you clean my toilet well then chances are I might be inspired to have some good heart and get Innes to grant you some amnesty, considering your seat is mine now, and you are to assist me.”

“… Excuse me?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see?” Caellach gestured at the cubicle Vanessa usually sat in.

“But Innes—that can’t be!” her voice raised, and she quickly slammed her hand over her mouth although it was too late by now. “And my past papers?”

“If I moved in somewhere new do I only get the ground or the house as well, Vanessa? Come on, don’t be stupid, aren’t you very smart? Let me reiterate again—it’s mine now. In return you have my cubicle and the junk I dealt with from now on, which I need you to clean so the flow to here would be stable.”

“Caellach, you—I—…” she could not finish anything. She hurriedly got her bag back, Caellach’s laughter serenading her as she grabbed whichever left on that cubicle she could call hers. She could not believe anything anymore now—Innes wanted to play fairly, why did not he just tell her that she was demoted? Even if she did end up making a major mistake she would want to know what she destroyed so she could assume a responsibility of it. Vanessa held her head high as she headed to where Caellach’s department was. She did hear from Syrene about women’s works being only acknowledged under a male colleague’s name—but should not that be decades ago? She anticipated working hard to get a fair result. She did not know the other way… Syrene’s way, graceful and perceptive.

Vanessa yanked the door to Caellach’s station. A small team, with three other people, all were but excited when seeing her coming in. Their identification tags said they were interns, and Vanessa’s eyes widened again. _Part-timer college kids? What did that fucker even do the whole day?_ Wait—no wonder he had nothing else to do then. “Hello,” she waved her hand awkwardly at them. “I’m the substitution for Caellach,” and she found them nodding politely, the typical _be nice look nice don’t say anything_ expression she also would wear when she was still in interning at Valni. She then slammed her bag over her counter, turning on the computer as she resisted the urge to slam her body to the chair as well. Waiting for the computer to take her to the home screen, Vanessa quickly tapped her phone, inhaling deeply.

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
You sent a bunch of_ _crying_ _emojis. Typo, or…_

 _Safe me from here—_ but instead of telling Lute that, she simply replied in affirmative. _Be professional. Be professional_ —she repeated the word again and again like a spell while invalidating herself again to find comfort in a forced rationalization she built to protect herself from crumbling. _I’m not worthy anyway. Perhaps I’ve been too conceited indeed. This gives me the chance to prove my worth and see if I’m intended to be here. Or perhaps I can get Mr. Frelia to talk about my resignation so I can truly get out and find my… true place—_

Vanessa looked at the list Caellach said to be from Innes.

_Make me an article about cargo vessel types, its usages and goods they carried and how it was relevant to the company, and our ships as of today. Impress me._

“Impress you. Bold that I did not even ask for a surprise,” she hissed, turning at the interns who were with her today. “Hi, so this is what we are going to do today…” she relayed it to the three of them. “I like you to...” _to what? To get out so I can cry and wail before I murder people instead?_

_Professional. Be professional—_

“Any of you here is an engineering major?”

“No, but I am a chemistry major,” one girl replied, “the name’s Amelia!”

Vanessa’s eyes glinted. _Another lady scientist._ “That is great. Are you familiar with manufacturing process? Let’s see, before we start, I’m humbly telling you that I do not hold a STEM degree, so I’m looking forward to learn from you as well.”

The girl looked a bit surprised being addressed like her presence was acknowledged, so she quickly returned the warm gesture. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything for you!”

 _A mini me._ “Caellach never tasked you to do anything?”

“Besides completing his job for him, yeah,” one dark-haired boy replied. “Ross, Ma’am. Sophomore. I’m barely 19 and honestly I’m clueless unlike her I bet. I like helping people though.”

“I’m their one lucky friend. Ewan is the name!” a red-haired boy spoke. “I study PR, public media and communication. The meaner Frelia seems to think I talk a lot like a doll. That Caellach mister hardly even bothered to update the webpage, and actually posted articles, which was why information usually traveled late to the public.”

“Hold on. Dolls talk?” Ross responded.

“Yours don’t? My grandma’s do!”

“What the fuck,” Ross, not knowing what else to say, retreated.

“I believe he doesn’t hate you, Ewan,” Vanessa nodded at the boy smiling. “Alright—I’ll ask what you do at school later, Ross, but now that you like helping people, would you please Google me history of cargo vessels? Amelia, if you have any familiarity with manufacturing process, you can help Ross finding the red thread as to how ship transport capability from age to age helped pushing product manufacturing including if there was anything to be done on board before decking. If there was not, try concentrating how marine industry processes their products in land. Ewan, you and I will study this company’s profile and draft me an eloquent defense of a late product-shipping because one ship needs maintaining.”

“So… in defense of damage and environmental hazard controls?” Ewan’s eyes lightened.

“Yes. Picture older ship with potential broken machine and leaked chemical substances. This company believes in conserving the ocean and protecting the environment, especially the younger Frelia.”

“Do you want a bombastic level or a formal boring typical kind of writing?”

“… Huh?”

“We’ll get to address climate change if you want something bombastic. Sometimes it isn’t that the media exaggerates anything, but we have to get your attention simply because people hardly give a shit,” Ewan shrugged. “Typical boring-ass writing usually involves apology blablabla I deserve my insurance money and I value your trust so don’t be discouraged to ride along with me again kind of tone.”

“Bomb it then, Ewan,” Vanessa smirked, feeling her spirit soar. “I believe the best way to get people to side with you is by letting your own conduct advocates for you. Honesty exudes confidence, and confidence gives others a sense of reliability.” _… I could say that?_

“And I like machines. Roger that. Hello, girl,” Ross waved at Amelia.

“One thing. In this team we respect women and give credits where it’s due. Are we clear?”

“Of course! I’m no bandit,” Ross replied cheerfully, making a salute gesture at her.

“Alright, now we are working,” Vanessa pictured herself standing bravely against an advancing army, as she was left alone with a few sentry recruits to advise a quick plan to defend her garrison.

_Syrene, the professional, the graceful—_

_—I’ll be the Syrene new recruits need_ _just like Syrene be the Syrene I needed._

Hours passed and Vanessa’s small team began stretching their tired bodies. Vanessa felt lucky for remembering the vital notes she could only get to see for being Innes’ assistant, and with Ross’ Googling yielded results, she found herself being immersed in matching Valni’s journey with its slow but sure domination of the seas including Hayden’s crucial decision of procuring a different kind of main cargo vessel compared to other rivaling companies. Connecting the dots between the long history of 20th century cargo ships and seafood trade routes with what the Frelias are doing at Valni, and the fact how both Innes and Hayden always tried formulating cost-efficient production methods with what they tried doing on board only fueled Ewan’s passionate PR paper on exactly why the Frelias made a different kind of marine trader compared to other companies. The room was silent but only with sounds of people typing and a printer running, or the interns getting off and on their chairs to approach and discuss things with Vanessa, or her own decision to give a call to KFC for some fuck-it-I’m-doing-it chicken wings party, which Ross definitely loved.

Hard work was her forte. Hard work was Innes’ quality as well.

And nobody, not even a bully would take that from her. She would own Innes at the area where he thrived. And not even being no longer working at Valni would ever change that. She was Innes’ assistant. Despite her personal doubts and fear, she would not shirk the front line.

“Do not forget putting your names there as well,” Vanessa said when Amelia was about to print their compiled work together. Her three interns looked so pleased as if she just told them they all got straight As for a midterm paper. “And give some explanation on who did what on the preface page.”

“I hate prefaces,” Amelia huffed.

“We all do, but we want even the laziest reader can have an idea what this is about if they are going to give up at page 0. And more importantly, so they see all the hard work under your names,” Vanessa smiled at her, and the girl returned it.

“How do we write you here, Ma’am?” Ross raised a question.

“Supervisor, duh. Is that not obvious?” Ewan chirped from the corner.

 _I am not. Just a nobody who fell from disgrace—_ “Just my name is okay.”

“Umm,” Amelia interrupted, “Sorry, but I don’t recall you ever giving us your name?”

“Vanessa Rider. Sorry, team,” Vanessa slapped her own forehead.

 **_nidhogg_ ** _D’Accord! **@tantdelumiere**_

 **_tantdelumiere_ ** _C'est bon de te revoir! <3 **@nidhogg**_

 _Good, now that Innes is toasting champagne with L’Arachel, kissing her cheeks, and having a super fine dining with her uncle chances are Innes will not be returning soon,_ Vanessa thought as she studied the photoset. First the restaurant they were in. Then the exquisite foods with names she barely could even pronounce...

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Les sommeliers._

 _He is wining-dining her?_ Slide—

 **_nidhogg_ ** _Macquereau, artichaut, saumon. Ah, j’aime la mer. Magnifique._

 _Stop looking at the phone, Vanessa. Stop—oops._ She accidentally tapped L’Arachel’s profile.

 **_tantdelumiere_ ** _À bientôt, Innes! **@nidhogg**_

She was standing on her tip-toe to kiss Innes back in the cheek, while the other photo showed him courteously bowing to kiss her hand. How blinding all these lights from those beautiful crystal lamps were! How exquisite the background was, with luxurious carpets covering the floor, and neat white sheets shrouding all the tables. Meanwhile Ross walked from his chair to receive their chicken wing boxes from the delivery boy, and Vanessa made a secret thankful wish that she had to get off her chair to pay for what they ordered. _Well, suppose I wait until this month ends before truly quitting, might as well stop buying Master Cakes from now on considering Innes will cut my paycheck as well—_

“Partyyy!” Ross announced, before glaring to Ewan, “do not hex these, Satan.”

Vanessa tried to enjoy the wings just how her interns loved the chance of having some humane, messy-eating chicken wings without the elite propriety befitting the Tower. Her mind flew to Innes’ last Instagram post, the four-course lunch he had with L’Arachel and her uncle, the wine-tasting package they took, the golden, shiny cutleries on the table—

_They kissed._

_—It’s just cheeks—_

_Yeah, but like, they kissed._

As if engaging in a war, both her inner sides tried to invalidate each other. Courtly proper gestures exchanged between the two, L’Arachel’s uncle being there with them—

 ** _dutifulrider_**  
_I—you know what, I think he’s getting married, L._

 ** _prodigiggle_**  
_Who is? Kyle?!_

 **_prodigiggle_ ** _  
V??_

Seen.

* * *

 

Innes arched his back forward, crossing his legs, uncrossing it again, before bringing his hand to ruffle his own mullet. Gilliam glanced at him from the driver’s seat. “Sir,” he said, “the police.” Innes muttered a beautiful French cuss word as he yanked the seatbelt he had forgotten to wear.

“Drive faster.”

“You like it legal, Sir.”

“Assholes don’t play legal,” Innes glared, tapping on the dashboard impatiently, checking his Instagram.

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Chicken wings fiesta! #lunch #fastfood_

 **_gracefulwing_ ** _Steaks with the Big Boss :)  #lunch #grateful #ilovemyjob_

 **_sharkwrestler_ ** _Hotpot time with Lyon **@necromancernotnekomacer** #lunch_

 **_soaringhiii_ ** _Found a little cute cafe that serves #Pikachu teriyaki #burger ~ #lunch_

 **_sharksrightactivist_ ** _Ephraim stop adding chili sauce you can’t tan that way #lunch_

“That is why you are not one, Sir,” Gilliam responded, his tone was sympathetic as he patted his young boss on the shoulder. “We’ll get there in no time. This car is a war chariot, isn’t it?”

“Never mind, she had lunch. Good,” Innes reflexively replied, and Gilliam chuckled.

“I wonder if she’ll love those steaks like my Syrene does.”

“YOUR Syrene?” Innes now grinned at him, prompting the stalwart bodyguard to cough.

_Hold on. Chicken wings while Syrene is steak-ing with Father._

**_artsywarrior_** _Who are those kids??_ **_@dutifulrider_**

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _My interns! **@artsywarrior**_

 **_artsywarrior_ ** _Wow you are conquering the world! **@dutifulrider**_

 **_dutifulrider_ ** _Haha, yes!! **@artsywarrior**_

 **_greenergrass_ ** _What_ _is this blasphemy_ _Vanessa **@dutifulrider** who said I’m getting married?! _

“Drive fast,” Innes commanded. “I need to get done with something.”

Gilliam sensed the thunder in Innes’ voice, and he simply replied with affirmative without saying anything. The Frelian heir had been in a sour mood since the morning, and only good graces as well as L’Arachel’s charming eccentric approaches saved him from frowning all the time when he had a meeting and lunch at Le Gabriel with the heiress and her uncle. Innes was not reckless, as far as Gilliam knew of him. And he was usually good at keeping his anger containable despite his tongue’s infamy. People already knew his sharpness with the words, so without knowing Innes closer, they might have a hard time telling if Innes was just Innes-ing as usual or actually wanted blood. Gilliam did not really pay attention closely to Innes’ business affairs, but he thought the sealed business agreement he scored with L’Arachel would greatly improve his mood. Yet the young master impatiently glanced at his watch, with an expression of the Norse serpent Nidhogg who hunted down its decided prey at all costs so Gilliam could not help but wondering what kind of catastrophe which earned his wrath like this.

The car pulled into Valni’s VIP parking area, and Gilliam could only pray whoever it was that poked the ice dragon from its slumber would not commit a grave offense because Innes did not even bother to at least exude a corporate magnate image. He yanked his tie loose, draped charcoal gray blazer behind his shoulders, and rolled his sleeves as if he was about to engage in a physical fight, which was even more of a rarity to happen.

His shiny, exquisitely expensive sturdy pair of oxblood Oxfords made long impatient strands as he waited for the elevator to descend at the exclusive area of the basement. With his phone still in hand, he made a quick call, with a voice akin to a threatening rising wave. “Syrene? Yes, it is Innes. Are you with my father, and only my father? …  I see. And cancel all my schedules for the afternoon. Thank you.”

“You left your file folder, Sir!” Gilliam ran to catch up with him, and Innes’ eyes sharply followed when a single paper slipped out of it. “Oops,” Giliam muttered apologetically, handing the paper to Innes after catching it. “I’m sorry, Boss. I hope you did not lose anything else?”

“No, they are all here,” Innes checked the file folder. His commissioned report, Vanessa’s bundle. And…

_Dear Mr. Frelia, it is with my deepest regret to inform you that I am submitting my resignation letter to you, thus giving my two-week notice starting from by the time you receive my letter. I am definitely most thankful that you provided me an opportunity of growing with your company, as well as a chance to cultivate myself in the brilliant workforce you assembled. I wish you great prosperity ahead. Yours sincerely, Vanessa T. Rider._

“Gilliam, I need you to do something since the person who usually does it is unavailable at the moment,” he said, folding the paper and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, “these things from across the street…”

He stormed inside when the elevator came.

* * *

 

Vanessa disposed the chicken wing boxes, fixing her blouse, reapplying her lipstick and stretching her back before she inhaled. It had to be today. Right when she gained her confidence back, and could trust her composure to have the conversation she had been wanting to since Saturday. If she stalled longer, she was not sure if she would feel as well-prepared as today.

She already had her bag with her, and with a polite smile she told her interns she just wanted to do some bank transfer for her mother back home. It was close to around two in the afternoon, and she was willing to bet all her chances to locate Innes upstairs. If he was still with L’Arachel, Vanessa decided to just bravely get the letter to Hayden.

Vanessa searched around, feeling strange. She felt like she forgot something. Something…

Vanessa clutched the tassel of her bag. Innes had taken all the papers with her file folder inside! With her letter... possibly with her letter since she did not want it to get crumpled. Halfway to the floor where Innes’ office was, she panicked pressing another button which would take her back to the lower grounds, where her exiled cubicle was. Perhaps if she would pen it—and hand it to Hayden before he returned—and conserved enough time to get out unseen so they did not bump—

Her phone vibrated. _Innes._

First time of him to call her after that Saturday.

_Pick it up. I’m not a coward._

_But what for? Heck, perhaps I’m a coward._

“Hello, Mr. Frelia,” she greeted, before following it up with rapid formal-sounding conversation so he did not have a chance to speak back, “I have finished what you tasked me with the help of the interns. I am going to put it on your desk right now, have a great day, Sir!”

 _Good job, Vanessa. Now burn._ – She chided herself. She just hung up on him.

Her Mary Jane shoes made faint noises as the elevator stopped at the floor where Innes’ office was, and Vanessa had to brace herself seeing Caellach’s face again since she would be passing her former cubicle to get to Innes’ office. And there indeed he was, still looking like a dick and being one at the same time.

“Done already?” his smirking made Vanessa regret not smashing his face with her shoe that Friday.

“Of course. And I’m putting this on Innes’ desk.”

“Hey, hey. You know you’re demoted. Now it has to go through me,” Caellach rose.

“I know,” she winced, “so why are you _still insecure_ that I’m going to hand this to him now that you have my desk and my job?”

“Who knows what you’ll tell him?”

“Exactly, since I never told him anything,” she hissed. “And it was him who tasked me. Would only be normal if I gave the work to the man himself.”

“You should know you’ve fallen from graces now, so stop still barging on the door— _twat._ ”

“What?!”

“Rider?”

The familiar wooden doors yanked open.

“Sir?” Syrene strolled closer when she heard the call.

“The younger one,” _Innes_ replied, his tone being very sharp and as if he just skinned someone alive with his tongue. “Have you cancelled all my schedules as I asked you to?”

“Of course.”

_Cancelled schedules. Oh yeah, he is engaged now—_

“Thank you,” Innes nodded at Syrene, then getting back at Vanessa. “If you have something for me, then why are you only standing there like a frozen crab?”

 _C… crab?_ Vanessa’s mouth gaped, but she could not say anything. _Crab?_ Innes did not use harmless things-comparison if he truly meant his anger so far. _Crab. Crab—_ “Y-yes, Sir. Certainly.”

And then she entered the dragon’s nest, surrendering her fate.

“You’re dead,” Caellach softly hissed at Vanessa, making a throat-slicing knife gesture with his hand as he returned to his seat. But he was just barely seated when a shadow loomed over him, peeking at him from behind his shoulders. “What?”

It was Syrene. The older Rider sister tucked her beautiful silky green hair strands behind her ears as she shook her head in disgust. Her left hand, though, was casually fixing her bandanna. “I heard what you called my sister just now,” she whispered… dangerously.

“And what of it?” Caellach snickered. “I know it’s you who smuggled that prissy little bitch—“ his eyes widened when Syrene simply grabbed his collar as she lingered closer.

“You call her by her name or I end you. Do you hear me?”

“Wooow. Very angry, aren’t you, Syrene,” Caellach chuckled nervously, not anticipating the great force coming from the graceful woman. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Don’t play dumb. You already are,” Syrene hissed. “My sister left the office on Friday looking distraught that she did not even take part in the Cakes. And apparently, she was last seen with you. It did not take long for me to piece the puzzle together—her behavior lately, and your smugness lately.”

“It’s just a playful banter. Perhaps she should not do big girl jobs if she can’t take it.”

“Playful banter? You are not even her friend!” Syrene responded. “Listen—if you break Vanessa, Caellach—“ she reached for the iron ruler on the table, easily snapping it in two with her bare hand, “I’ll break your spine like I do this thing. Don’t you dare breaking her spirit. Nobody mess with my sister.”

“The office sure will love another tale of hysteria.”

“I’ll show you hysteria when I break you,” Syrene smiled. “Nobody will believe you this time.”

“So you’re just going to use your beauty and well-trained smiles and tears, huh. Typical.”

“And my fourth-degree black belt in Kyokushin karate which you do not hold. Just like you using sexism to invalidate her because apparently if there is something you can ever do, it is blaming women for your inferiority complex and incapability besides doing the _damn_ job the Frelias _actually paid_ you for.”

“… Are you threatening me, Syrene?”

“Just like you going aggressive against my sister at that little corner in the ballroom that day, you mean? Listen, Caellach, if you ever approach V again like that, I’m sending you to prison in crutches.”

“Syrene?” Hayden emerged from the other corner of the floor, the largest VIP office room, twice larger than Innes’. “There you are. If you speak German, I’d like you to take this Skype call with me,” the older Frelia chuckled, “if you don’t, well… oh, are you still busy with uh… who’s _that_ again?”

“No, Sir!” Syrene cheerfully replied, all smiling. “We are just having a friendly playful banter here.”

* * *

 

“Bend yourself.”

“W-what?”

“Bend?” Innes repeated—before realizing his wording and his face went red. “I mean, hide yourself under my desk. My apologies— _fucking fuck,_ ” he swore. “And do not say anything until I call for you. ... My gun is in the drawer and always loaded just in case you need to shoot me for my misplaced eloquence like what I just did you."

“W …. what?” Vanessa frowned even deeper, and just then she noticed how dead-embarrassed Innes actually was after telling her that.

“Caellach! Come inside and talk to me!” from under the desk Vanessa heard Innes’ thundering voice. Why it came off rather friendly, she had no idea. But Vanessa did as she was told. She held her breath when Caellach’s footsteps came in, anxiously anticipating what might happen since Innes' tone sounded pretty amiable. Perhaps she’d have to shoot Innes if he was going to get lovey-dovey with that office bully.

Caellach came in. His strands were long and confident. “Mr. Frelia.”

From under the table, Vanessa cussed because for someone who actually hated Innes like that, the asshole could still keep a suave manner.

“You are fired.”

Vanessa nearly gasped. _D-did Innes just…_

“What?” Caellach’s eyes bulged.

“Fired. You know, terminated. You are no longer working here. That is all.”

“Wait, w-what do you mean?!”

“Huh? You are taking that job and that cubicle now, which makes you my assistant. And I’m firing my assistant, that simple,” Innes responded, sounding so innocent that Vanessa smiled begrudgingly.

“There has to be a mistake—“

“Or you’d rather have the synonym, literally?”

“T-terminated? Sir—“

Innes slowly leaned on his desk, his body language was not at all amiable. “Good that we finally get to see each other face to face like this, because I’ve been dying to see the big bad almighty myself,” he looked at him like he just stared at a vomit bag. “First of all, who do you think you are?”

“E-excuse me?”

“Why did you tail Vanessa to meet up with Doctor Fluorspar? Did I authorize you?”

“I uh—just made sure she did not ruin it considering she was, you know, not an engineer—“

“Did I ask?”

“U-uh, I was just merely thinking, since she…”

“Did I ask, or did I not?”

“… You did not, Sir.”

“And why did you take part in the sit-in with Doctor Fluorspar?”

“Again, to make sure that she got everything right, S-sir.”

“And why did not you ask me about that?”

“I-it’s… p-perhaps Doctor Fluorspar exaggerated.”

“She is a _fucking_ certified scientist, and you just tried explaining to her how to science?”

“S-sir—but Vanessa—“

“Sat with her to relay and summarize the report while you were supposed to be doing your job training those college kids. And then you opened your mouth to give the ladies verbal diarrhea which nearly ruined everything I’ve built these past few months, do you know the grand total I’d lose had I even have some shred of second-hand septic tank pity to deign you with chancing your very smart opinion? Even if I skewer you right here and sell your worthless organs one by one, the loss will still be unthinkable.”

 _Oh my God,_ Vanessa cupped her mouth, _he totally DID that._

“We _will_ talk about profit later," Innes spoke in a way as if he was furiously cussing under his breath, "but first thing first, the possibility of lives lost drowning in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere because you’d push the ship to sail by not even knowing what is called what. You insulted Vanessa again and again for lacking brain, but that is rich coming from a garbage who can’t hardly differentiate enclosure cofferdam and marine engineering cofferdam. Someone who kindly said to use cargo ventilation to pump water out, without even knowing that the ventilation was to prevent moist—a term any basic ass tired freshman engineering student should have learned by now, you hear me?”

“Mister—Frelia—“

“Or do you think climate difference is not real? What’s next, Caellach, that the earth is in the shape of a kangaroo tumbling over some icosahedron pizza ball and bleeding mineral ores? Oh, excuse me. Do you even know what an icosahedron is?”

 _Aaaahhh—_ Vanessa somehow wanted to shout.

“So let me recap—I have an almighty good-for-nothing turd here trying to sound very smart and nearly cost me millions—all the while talking about how stupid my assistant is just for being a woman and non-STEM. And you there did not even understand how the ocean changes when it sails from warm to cold water, and how the ship will have to process that, yet still had the gall to pull a _just in case_ defense at me? Just in case what, your brain melts into your feces?!”

Caellach was pale. “But I have the papers—“

“Her papers you mean. Ah, stolen glory. Truly is the revered traditional culture of men,” Innes waved his hand dismissively. “Then tell me, what do you understand from these papers?”

“What I… understand, S-Sir?”

“Yes? Did I not make myself clear? If you want to be my assistant, you’ll need to know things, right?”

“S-Sir.”

“You can’t,” Innes whispered again, “because you know you did not write them.”

“I—m-my apologies, Sir.”

“I think deep down inside you know whom you should be apologizing for,” Innes lowered his tone even deeper. “But after today, I’d rather not hear you getting close to Vanessa again. Caellach, I do not tolerate aggression and violence against women in this building.”

“I-it was just a playful banter. M-maybe she had been telling you too much things—“

“Which is the definition of her _working_ , you see. I have no idea what kind of playful you like to engage yourself in, but the God Almighty from Heaven Above that is CCTV revealed to me otherwise. I can’t probably touch you _that much_ here, Caellach, but off-office hour I’m simply a concerned man.” He raised an eyebrows when saying that.

“I guess I’ll pack my things t-then.”

“You have stuff? I thought you are only using the toilet everyday since you’re a giant piece of shit.”

“P-please, Mr. Frelia, I understand—“

“Understand what?”

 _Good God, Innes is fucking undraggable—_ Vanessa pondered from under the desk.

“S-Sir, I know you are angry about the _lady,_ but—“

“Is that all what you summed from my long rant? Dear me, and you just told me you understood!” Innes replied, his voice calm. “So much brains. Caellach dear, you know I’m a marine engineer. What you have no idea about is that Doctor Fluorspar was my colleague in the Marine Society—wait, sorry, let me try this again. Selena is my intern at the Marine Society, which explains why she knows ship despite being a structural engineering researcher. She gets her doctorate while I babysit you assholes.”

“You are a—“

“A—?”

“... Adieu,” Caellach dragged his feet out of Innes’ office room, utterly defeated. When Vanessa was sure she could not hear him anymore, she slowly crawled back from the desk.

“Hello,” Innes simply gestured at her. “How are you being there?”

“Surprised, Sir.”

“Understandable,” he laughed lightly. “But apparently I'm not the only one with the tendency to surprise others since there is this little letter you typed for me in that file folder. Well?” Innes fixed his rolled sleeves while gesturing to the letter which he laid on his desk.

Vanessa fidgeted. Well, yeah. But—there it was, her resignation letter, on his desk. And why the hell Innes had to have rolled sleeves, loosened tie and draped suit like this? “Well, I thought …. And then he told me you demoted me…”

“Oh I did.”

“S-so you truly… meant it.”

“Yes, because I needed to clear you out of there first before I got to kill him,” Innes responded. “I know he will be gloating at the idea of getting your perks, so I wanted to see what he was truly capable of. At the same time I was willing to bet my chance of you coaching those interns because that part of the Tower hardly functioned. Well, I was right. Even with the right ammunition in his hand, he only got a dick that was his face.”

“So you kind of GRE-tested me.”

“Perhaps.”

“So I am indeed… inadequate.”

“No? Because I want to prove to him that men are stupid because we never listen. You are a keen learner. You work hard. You deserve that seat like you have always been these one year and half. And it really boiled my blood that he dared to imply you got here with sexual gratification. Yes or no aside, he is not the one to talk about brains, that simple, and being an asshole makes your brain rot.”

“See, Mr. Frelia, you are not an asshole since you are sharp,” how relieving to be able to laugh again—

“I know this asshole would not waste time maneuvering since you ate with the interns.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” Innes unfolded his arms in a second, looking sheepish this time. “I got those steaks for my father and the entire floor so you would have some niceties considering I left you that Saturday. I got to meet Selena because she was genuinely concerned Caellach’s very brainy brain would destroy my ship. She was right, I tested all my data again while listening to the _shit_ he called opinion and suggestion to her, just in time to save my empire. Selena began doubting whether what I asked for was truly what I asked for. Impressive how forceful and invalidating a man can be that a lady scientist doubted her reality and what she was actually doing. But I thought you were mad at me, so I…”

“Wait. You thought?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t you, since I ruined the date?”

“D-date.”

“On the day Selena told me how pleasantly engaging you were and that you learned fast.”

“Sir, I mean—date!!”

“Yes? Who arranged a work meeting at a farmer’s market on a beautiful Saturday with loose dress codes and then showed up in either a military jacket and cute thigh-highs? Sounds sexy to me.”

“M-Mister Frelia—“

“I wanted to ask you directly. That is what I meant to say when I communicated with you via Instagram,” Innes added, “but that meeting with Pablo took me longer than I expected... and then I thought I could get to talk with you more casually with the help of cakes. Speaking of which,” he procured something he had kept inside another, long-stand drawer, "would you take turn helping me this time?"

Vanessa stared at what he held in hand. A box. With a logo she was familiar with considering the place was her routine stop where she got his breakfasts these times. "... Those are Master Cakes'."

"Indeed they are," Innes gave a simple nod as if he did not see any other implication from her simple statement. "You left without taking a slice on Friday. I have got a hunch that unless I put it directly in your hands you will still not take anything even though my 'everyone' included you in it."

“H-haha—Hahaha, seems I’m truly helpless.”

“Considering you helped me to reopen the business talk I nearly abandoned out of my tight schedule with the Raustens, kept me updated with the report that Pablo could not deceive me, and eventually helped me landing the much-needed, more reasonably profitable with L’Arachel that the revenue can be used to _revitaminize_ the ocean?” Innes used the word purposefully, enjoying Vanessa’s embarrassed reaction. “What an unusual way to define helplessness.”

“I beg of you, don’t tease me—“ she said, before retorting, "... Then perhaps next time you can just tell me it's a date you want."

"Next time?" Innes' eyes glinted.

"You wouldn't even tell!"

“Because I don’t want you to think of me as playing a prank on you,” Innes replied. “I do not ask women on dates as a joke. Besides, you are always eager to follow me around. You are so serious not wanting to mess up, always up for duty and work hard—I’ll be damned if you’d feel like you are being tested. Didn’t I tell you I like things legal and consensual?”

“S-Sir—“

“I mean if you think it is part of your job as my assistant to say yes to everything I said—including taking you out like that, then I won’t like it.”

“Sir,” she whispered. “Does that mean that… you know?”

“Well, judging from what you heard, what do you think?” Innes shrugged tenderly.

“I thought you were angry.”

“Oh yes,” Innes merely grinned, “because why is the extra message blurred with a correction pen?”

“W-what?”

“You know I’ll only need to hold the letter near a strong light source and read the blurred lines from under, in reverse like a mirror reflection, right? That’s like, a classic method.”

“I’m—sorry. I thought it would not be… so professional of me…” she bowed.

“And I figured little things like that made you very cute. Just like those thigh-highs.”

“Mister Frelia, I can’t accept that compliment!”

“And why not? You are very cute.”

“You did that again!”

“Did what, calling you cute?”

“Please stop teasing me—“

“You think I have nothing better to do than calling you cute just to tease you? Cute.”

“I mean—you are engaged!”

“… Engaged?” Innes repeated.

“Yes, aren’t you to be married to Madame Rausten? Y-your Instagram—“

“So, a cutie did pay attention to my updates.”

“Mr. Frelia—pu—“ Vanessa slammed her hand over her mouth before she reflexively let it out. “N-no, I’m professional. Not going to slip for the second time.”

“Well, don’t you want to know?” Innes merely chuckled, as his drop his chords, teasing Vanessa’s ears with a pleasant deep baritone voice like how his voice sounded on phone, that night when the Earth started to get quiet. “Désolé de te décevoir, ma belle, mais je ne suis pas fiancée. I like someone else.”

“That’s the translation for the entire French line you just said?”

“No?” Innes grinned again. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not engaged.”

“You left out the belle part, I know it means the same,” Vanessa pointed out, seriously.

“Alright, ma chérie.”

“A… h-haha, n-now that you are bilingual you think you can use endearment terms like that with me—“

“I am not bilingual, mon trèsor.”

“There is more?”

“Probably, mon bijou.”

“SIR—“

“Yes, ma douce?”

“Y-you called me a douche?”

“No, mon ange.”

“S-so, to make it clear, you are not engaged to Madame Rausten.”

“No. That is why I said, sorry to disappoint you,” he chuckled again.

“As if I’m going to be disappointed,” Vanessa muttered, to the startled expression of Innes, and…

“You are delighted that I’m single.”

“Mr. Frelia.”

“You are not disappointed that I am _not_ actually engaged.”

“I—“

“Is it possible that you may find a little liking of me in your heart?”

“Mister Frelia, again—“

“Innes,” he whispered, moving closer to her as he did so. “Call me Innes… _Vanessa_."

“Innes…?“

“That feels so natural somehow,” his beaded laughter came out… tenderly. “… I am used to call my assistant by their last names because I forgot their full names easily, considering they did not last long working for me. So I figured why bother to get personal when you can be professional. But then again, I do not want to be that asshole who would go around calling women deliberately that they feel disrespected.”

“... And I once dreaded people calling me like that because—because of Syrene,” Vanessa confessed. “And I kept thinking I should live up to her legacy and yet…”

“Then I’ll be calling you Vanessa from now on.”

“N-no Sir—Innes!—It’s alright—“

“Then how do I easily evade confusion to tell which sister I want to take out on a date?”

“What?!”

“Only if you like me enough.”

“Mr. Frelia—Innes—“

“I’m free this entire afternoon if you want to practice,” Innes smirked, “since you seem to need it.”

“Uh, I—I’ll get used to it, I’m sure.”

“What’s with the red face, Rider?”

“W-well—“

“So! I take that you like me a little bit, Vanessa?”

“P-probably not.”

“Probably?” Innes casually strolled to get closer to her.

“M-maybe because I like you… slightly more than just a little bit.”

“Slightly more?” he was now standing closer, his face only centimeters away from hers.

“Might be rightly so,” she whispered.

“Might be rightly so?” he murmured, gently taking her chin with his fingers.

“Alright, a little more than that…” she whispered again. Slow but sure her courage found its way as she came closer and touched his hair. Her left arm was rested beside his waist, and like a moon on a peaceful night it gradually moved to his arm, shoulder, and finally made its final stop at his chest.

“And does this little more than that allow me to kiss you?” he teased again, taking a strand of her pigtail to bask in the fragrance of her hair before gently bringing it to his face. “Such softness..." He sighed, looking like he was savoring how the closeness made him feel. "May I ask who you are?”

“Vanessa,” she responded, nearly made breathless because of how tender his husky baritone voice was.

“Vanessa,” he whispered into her ear, giving a twinkling sensation that just felt… mesmerizing. “Hello, Vanessa. I’m Innes, how are you?” he traced her jawline with his index finger.

“I’m a little bit nervous,” her voice was equally soft, but her gestures noted that she welcomed him getting closer as she pulled him into her arms. “And hello as well, Innes.”

“And may this Innes kiss this cute but nervous Vanessa standing in front of him?” Innes pulled Vanessa into a hug, his hand gently rubbed her back up and down and he was glad to find her much more relaxed in his embrace compared to before.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, or a yes-probably kind of yes?”

“Yes,” Vanessa had her hands wrapped around Innes’ neck then. “You smell nice.”

“If it is a yes-yes, then alright,” Innes landed a gentle peck on her left cheek, “and why thank you kindly, I worked for that myself. I am professional.”

“That’s… not very professional of you, though,” her voice nearly sunk under layers of shyness.

“It is. Which is why it is on Instagram,” he teased, lightly pinching her nose when she pursed her lips because he understood what she implied. “But let me show you what a real professionalism is like. Are you up for the task, assistant?”

“Yes?”

“So it is a yes-yes, then?”

“You are thorough, Mister Frelia.”

“Because I’m being professional here, Miss Rider.”

She did not say anything else as he tilted his face at her. His lips gently brushed against her, as if assessing her reaction first to make the experience enjoyable. When he felt she was eager to respond, he went on with the mission... professionally. His lips grazed the shaft of her neck before they found their way upward, to the chin... until they eventually found their matches and anchored there. Innes joyously noted in his heart how right her lips felt under his. He secretly thank God Almighty from Heaven Above that was his curtains which he forgot to open since he did not occupy the room in the morning, and with all the graces done he felt how quite enthusiastic she was to respond to his playful touch because her lips now brushed against his in a less-deferring manner, as if she was also making a statement that she was his the way he was hers. That everything was actually truly happening for real while he was basking in a similar sensation he savored and treasured because she accepted him.

“I like you,” he did not hesitate stating it.

“So do I here,” she sighed. “Such professionalism.”

“Then I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“… Same here, apparently…”

“Plagiarism is not professional, Vanessa.”

“Is that plagiarism or actually a sign of a synergic teamwork?”

“You've got a point. And since when is it for you, Vanessa?”

“Maybe when you grilled the person you talked to on the phone about damaging the ocean,” her voice was so soft as if she just moaned her reply, realizing Innes had kept pronouncing her name.

“So it takes crabs and starfishes to deliver you into my arms? Had I known, you could just tell since that exactly is this company is all about!”

“Innes.”

“Vanessa?”

“If you tease me again I’ll just pinch your waist.”

“Since that is a tease on its own, how about I pinch your waist?”

“You are undraggable, aren’t you?”

“Dragging is not professional. There was this article I read that apparently real men should grip and clutch their bags when in the airport. If you don't like my counter-offer, I have other alternatives.”

“What a... useless article,” she averted her eyes bashfully because of what he just said.

“Which truly isn’t professional, agreed.”

“My turn. Since when is it for you, Innes?”

“The moment you pointed out I misplaced the projector’s cords?”

“Wow, I did not know you are cheap.”

"So finally I've been cleared from the rich asshole demography?"

“We are so professional, huh,” she gently flicked him in the nose.

“Verily so,” he replied tenderly.

"Ah, regarding my resignation letter..."

"What letter?" Innes murmured as he bent to kiss her again.


End file.
